The Darkest Night
by venomRED
Summary: Commander Shepard has been killed in a surprise attack on the Normandy. While Cerberus rebuilds him, the members of his crew attempt to move on. A bridge piece between ME1 and ME2 following the SR1 crew. Rated M for language/violence/adult content
1. Prologue: Whispered Secrets

_****__**Author's Note**_

**This is my first foray into fan fiction, so any reviews or comments are greatly appreciated. I've taken a few (?) liberties with the end of the ME1 storyline, mainly because I felt Tali should have been a LI in that game, and wanted to see how that would play out in writing.**

_**This work will initially be a Crossover piece, focusing not so much on Shepard, but what the others (mainly Tali, Garrus, and Wrex) are doing in the two years between ME1 and ME2. Once that's done, I'll either head into a post-ME2 area, or maybe write the ME1 backstory, haven't decided yet. This series is going to be a big one, but I want to dive right into the deep end with this, and I'm really looking forward to it!**_

_**ALSO! Many cultural elements, ESPECIALLY quarian elements, were imported from Calinstel's "To Survive" and "To Survive: Alliances" (both hosted on this site!). These are MUST READs if you love the quarian people like I do! =D**_

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_**The Darkest Night  
Prologue: Whispered Secrets  
**_

Shepard walked out of the med bay, stifling a yawn as he left his check-up with doctor Chakwas. It had been four days since his fight with Sovereign, what they were already calling the Battle of the Citadel. People had named him hero, savior of the galaxy, but in truth he was happy to finally board the Normandy and head back out into space. John Shepard was a soldier, stopping bad guys, be they geth or reapers, was just what he did. Did you praise a farmer for growing a gigantic pumpkin? Maybe, but you sure as hell didn't slap a medal on him and call him a savior of anything.

Laughing softly and shaking his head to remove the sudden thought of Sovereign as a gigantic pumpkin, Shepard stepped out into the main living deck of the Normandy. His left arm, broken by Sovereign's body parts flying into the Council chamber, had been reset and put in a sling. Cuts and bruises abound also marked his experience with the killer machine, but surprisingly the broken arm was the worst of it. Medi-gel had taken care of the bulk of it, now all that was left to do was play the waiting game with his arm.

In the med bay John had kept nodding off as Chakwas checked his arm. After seeing both Tali and Garrus, it had been well into third shift before she had sent for him on the ship's comm system. The glares she had given him every time she had to wake him up could normally cut through the bulkheads, though she had quickly moved to cover a yawn or two in her examination, and his laughs had elicited some from her as well.

The living area was dark, lights low as the Normandy's crew tried to sleep. John couldn't help but smile. He had grabbed a rag-tag group of aliens from the Citadel, picked up another on the way, and hunted down the Council's best Spectre, passing through an uncharted mass relay, and discovering secrets of an ancient race before killing a reaper in front of the entire galaxy's eyes. He dusted off his hands approvingly, and the gesture pained him a bit, but the arm was still quite usable.

Walking over to the sleeper pods, Shepard checked to see if anyone might still be up. His chrono said the time was 03:40 standard time, so not likely, but he wasn't particularly tired anymore, just bored. He'd been on the run for months, frantically hunting Saren, and then just like that, it was over. The quiet of the Normandy at "night", once peaceful, now seemed oppressive. At the end of the row, a pod's door hung centimeters ajar, just enough for him to know its occupant was absent. He didn't need to approach it to know whose it was, and he smiled as he spun on his heel to head back towards the elevator.

Entering it and waiting for the door to close, he pressed the lift key and waited for its descent to the lower deck. He was either going to encounter a friend to talk with or a prank waiting to happen.

_Either way, _he thought cheerfully, _Bingo._

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya checked her chrono as she waited for another systems inquiry on the Tantalus Core to compile. 03:25.

_Keelah,_ she thought with a bit of disapproval as she realized she had, yet again, burned away more hours than she'd thought studying the drive core. The engines on the Normandy, as she'd come to realize over the past few months, were easily the most advanced she'd ever encountered. Often she slept right here next to them, not because the sleeper pods weren't an appreciated amenity, but because they were just so _quiet_. She'd often seen Garrus or Kaidan in theirs on the rare nights she'd tried to sleep in hers, and they seemed to look peaceful, but she couldn't understand how something that quiet could be remotely comfortable.

Sighing softly behind her visor, she looked down at the metal floor on which she stood. Yes, this was going to be her bed again tonight, next to the core. Even the core didn't make too much operational noise, just a soft humming as it constantly ebbed and churned raw energy, but it was noise enough to override her paranoia.

Seeming to notice her looking down, Engineer Adams chuckled as he turned to speak with her.

"You know you don't have to sleep down here, Miss Zorah. The drive core will always be here when you wake up." His undercurrent of concern was welcome, though they both knew he wouldn't be changing her mind.

"I'm sure it would be, Engineer Adams, but I never have been one for the sleeper pods. They're just too quiet for my taste."

"Agreed on that, Miss." Adams said, not missing a beat. "Heck some nights I wish I could sleep standing, just in case something goes wrong." He looked back up at the core with...concern? "She's my baby, I'd hate to have something happen to her and I not be here."

Smiling insider her helmet, she turned back to check the diagnostic report. Her queries of the system were fairly complex, drive outputs and core upkeep reports crossed over with power transfer structures and efficiency readouts. She almost felt bad running Adams' systems through the tests, this one in particular indicating a _To Complete_ time of at least another hour and a half.

When she'd brought her concern up with him, he'd looked her straight in the visor and said "Heck, Miss Zorah you're a quarian, not a krogan. I'd almost be surprised if your diagnostics _didn't_ tax the system." She'd known they were going to get along then, and it had comforted her greatly that the rest of Engineering welcomed her as well.

Realizing there was no way she'd be staying up for the rest of the diagnostic to run, Tali put her back to the bulkhead behind her and slid down until she sat somewhat comfortably on the deck. Leaning her head to the side, she watched the ever-pulsing drive core, a work of art all its own as it churned, the beating heart of the Normandy laid bare to see. A sleepy smile crossed her lips, and a faint yawn wasn't far behind it.

As her consciousness started to slip away, she heard the soft _woosh_ of the access door opening. The sleepy smile on her face became a full-fledged one as Shepard walked quietly into the room, glancing quickly at Adams and then to her.

Without thinking she shut her eyes before he could register her presence. Hearing nothing for a few seconds, she was sure she'd been seen.

_Keelah he's wondering what that silly quarian girl is playing at now!_ She blushed furiously under her helmet.

"Adams, how is everything?" she heard him ask softly, too quiet for her to have heard without her helmet's audio pickups. He had to have crossed the deck to Adams to speak that softly, but she hadn't heard a footfall. The thought of him tip-toeing across made her stifle a laugh, but luckily she wasn't heard.

"Just fine, Commander. Core readouts look good, everything seems spot-on."

"Fantastic, Adams. Now why the hell are you still up? You have any idea what time it is?"

"Sir, yes sir. I just...have some difficulty sleeping in the pods, sir. Sorry if I'm speaking out of line here." She heard Shepard chuckle softly.

"Not at all, Adams. Just at least find yourself somewhere comfortable to lie down. Should be some recon sleeping bags out in the cargo hold if you need something soft."

"Thank you sir, I may just go get one," Adams replied. She could hear the relief in his voice. Had he really been scared that Shepard would be upset with him? That was craziness.

Tali had seen more of Shepard's character in the past few months than of anyone she'd ever known back on the Migrant Fleet. She had seen his brutal efficiency and almost ruthlessness when dealing with the Thorian, his calm and calculating nature when deciding the fate of the Rachni, and most importantly his caring and supportive side when he talked down the girl Talitha, a victim of Batarian slavers like Shepard may have been had "luck" not been on his side as a child. Remembering their interaction still brought a twinge of pain to her heart, he had been so cautious, so caring.

"You do that." He replied, and after a brief pause added, "How long has Tali been out?"

"Hmm? OH! Wow, not long I'd imagine, we were just talking a few minutes ago, I looked back at my terminal and then you came in. Didn't even notice she'd finally lost that fight," he replied, laughing softly at the end.

_I should open my eyes now, admit to playing this stupid game_, she thought frantically to herself. But in the end curiosity won out, and as she heard Shepard's steps approaching her softly, she kept her eyes closed and regulated her breathing as best she could.

The mischievous smile never left her lips.

John looked down at Tali, scrunched up in a ball beside her engineering console, and almost had to bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it. John Shepard was dedicated to his job, but _this_? He smiled as he regarded her sleeping form, wondering what to do.

Quickly his thoughts turned from pranks and joking to more serious matters between them. He'd always found himself coming to speak with her after missions, time in port, sleeping, any time really. At first, he admitted to himself, it was an interest of the quarian people that drove him to keep coming around. But eventually it was an interest in one quarian woman that kept him interested.

The logical side of his brain put on its boxing gloves now. There was no way she was interested in him. If anything his constant visits wanting to rehash the entire history of her people were probably boring and interruptive. But bless her soul, she spared the time to discuss it with him at length, the dense human who couldn't be bothered to do an extranet search.

_No, no_, the angel on his shoulder contested. _You know there are feelings for her there beyond a walking encyclopedia. You just don't know if they're reciprocated, mainly because you haven't been man enough to just say something about it._

He wanted to agree with...himself. But what did it matter if she did share his feelings? The sheer amount of limitations between them was staggering. He would probably just scare her off back to the Fleet if he tried to advance, especially now that her Pilgrimage was complete. She was leaving anyway. Any day now.

And yet he'd put all his bets on this having some possibility of working out. In conversation, they'd danced around the issue like teenagers, but when the chips were down, when Liara had come to him before Ilos, he'd sent her away. He had seen Tali outside his door when Liara was refused admittance, and had hoped beyond hope that she wanted the same thing, but she had disappeared as fast as she'd shown up, and Shepard had felt all the more foolish for it.

He looked down at her now, arms wrapped around her pulled up knees, chest rising and falling softly as she breathed in the sterile air inside her helmet, the beautiful color and mesmerizing patterns on her hood. He smiled, seeing this young woman who he had personally watched butcher dozens of geth, her fair handful of krogan, and put the final bullet into Saren Arterius, sleep so peacefully. Still he wondered: had he made a mistake? Laughing again softly to himself, he realized the truth of the matter:

_It doesn't matter if I have. Regardless, she'll be leaving soon, and this little hoping game will end._

A somber thought for him, but he didn't care. If she was only going to be with them for a short while longer, he'd enjoy her company as much as possible, and wish her the best of luck when she left. She would know that if she ever needed him, all she'd need to do is call.

Kneeling down beside her, he slowly and quietly hooked his arms under her legs and behind her back. Waiting for the almost inevitable mid-lift wake up, he was surprised when it didn't come, though her body felt extraordinarily tense in his arms.

Adams, seeing what was happening, rushed quietly to get the door and the cargo lift for him. Nodding his thanks, Shepard smiled at the man as the elevator doors closed and the lift commenced.

Panic.

She had been wondering if Shepard hadn't simply left Engineering, and was about to open her eyes to look for him when she heard him laugh softly right in front of her. The sound itself was music to her ears, and her smile returned, but was immediately replaced by confusion and panic when she felt his arms around her back and under her legs. Disbelieving what was about to happen, she stifled a groan when he lifted her off the ground and walked soundlessly out the door.

_Keelah, what have you gotten yourself into this time, Tali'Zorah?_

Her muscles tensed as he carried her along, and although the whole situation embarrassed her, she wasn't sure exactly why. While touch was a much more meaningful thing between quarians, did she not trust Shepard with her life?

_Of course I do! But…_

And had she not just fought beside him to put down Saren, stop the geth, acquire one of the most impactful Pilgrimage gifts to date, and save the Citadel from complete destruction?

_Well, yes but still…he's CARRYING me!_

And isn't that kind of affection what she'd most wanted for at least a month now?

…_yes._

Trying not to sigh with frustration, lest she give herself away, she heard a soft _hiss_ escape Shepard's lips as they exited the elevator on the main living deck.

_Keelah, his arm! He broke his arm and he's still using it to carry me around!_

She wanted desperately to stop him, to hop down and apologize for the next few hours for her stupid little game, but couldn't work up the courage to. He'd either laugh at her or be devastated and embarrassed, and neither of those were acceptable outcomes, she determined.

And so Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, heroine of the Battle of the Citadel, continued to feign sleep as she allowed herself to be carried and placed, albeit gently, into a sleeper pod. As Shepard strapped her in, she filed this moment away as an idea never to be revisited, and waited for the door to close.

This sleeping prank had just ruined her day.

John was skeptical.

He had felt Tali's body tense when he picked it up, but he could write that off as maybe some bit of quarian anatomy he just wasn't well versed in. No problem. Then, he'd turned his arm the wrong way when getting ready to leave the elevator. He still wasn't sure if the _hiss_ he'd heard had been his own sharp intake of air, or a small gasp from her. But even that was curious at best.

The real deal breaker for him had been getting her into the sleeper pod. Any doubts he'd been harboring had been put to bed soundly when he leaned her body into the cushioned interior of the pod. Tali would never let anyone toss her around like that, so unless she was _ridiculously_ committed to some kind of ploy, Shepard was convinced she was out cold. Strapping her in for safety, he placed his hand on the door to the pod, and began to close it, but stopped halfway and looked into her visor. He suddenly very much missed the glowing white almond-shaped eyes he usually saw in there.

John had grown up on Mindoir, a small colony in the Attican Traverse, and while a bit out of the way, "basic" amenities still applied. For example, John had seen his fair share of vids where the manly hero would have the girl of his dreams within earshot, but then for some reason not tell her how he felt. It never seemed to work out well for them, and in retrospect, John didn't remember being very happy about it then as a kid, either.

_Time to break the cycle._ He thought with a small smile. _What's the worst that could happen?_

Leaning into the pod, he put his face inches away from Tali's visor and whispered words he'd wanted to tell her for some time now:

"I don't know what exactly is happening between us. But I know its something, Tali. I'm embarrassed that I can only say this to you when you're asleep, but even after helping you on your Pilgrimage, I…I don't want you to go." he paused a moment, then added "I know…real selfish of me…" and closed the door.

Watching to make sure the soft _hiss_ went off indicating it sealed, John turned on his heel again, heading for his own cabin. It was past 04:00 now, and he'd need to be up early tomorrow, regardless of how he felt. These days no one could afford to sleep in. Not even the Hero of the Citadel.

Inside the pod, Tali's mind raced. Her heart beat faster than it ever had before, and internal sensors on her heads-up display indicated this to her as if she didn't already know. All the feelings she held for him, everything she'd tried to repress in the face of all the obstacles saying it could never be, came rushing forward to the front of her mind all at once.

She wanted to burst through the door, let her know she'd heard him. That she felt the same way. That in some small part of her…she didn't want to go back either. He'd done that to her, unintentionally of course, but there it was.

_No, Tali. He would be embarrassed and perhaps insulted if you did such a thing._

Agreeing with herself once again, she leaned back and replayed his words on her suits on-board recording software, smiling every time she heard the true compassion in his voice.

This sleeping prank had just _made_ her day.


	2. Family

***Author's Note***  
Man, this chapter was hard to write. Tali is hands down my favorite character, and writing about your favorite characters' pain is a rough job, especially if you emotionally invest yourself in them. I guess its sort of a self test to see if you can pull it off when you really, really don't want to. =P

Still, I know where the story is going, and it won't be this bad for long =)  
*****************

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**Chapter 1 - Family**

Tali sat in the passenger seat of the small shuttlecraft as it cruised slowly toward the Migrant Fleet. The impressive mass of ships more than filled the viewport of the shuttle, but Tali still stared at the floorboard under her feet. Tears slid softly down the sides of her face, an act that hadn't seemed to be able to stop or lessen in the last week. Shepard was gone. Just when she had finally come to accept her feelings for him, and hope beyond hope that something may yet work out. Just when he had been able to express to her how he felt, never mind that he hadn't thought she could hear him, he had been ripped away from her, in a death so gruesome…

Sobs wracked her body again, silently this time. Her shoulders shook with the heaving of her lungs as she thought about their last encounter. He had carried her to her sleeper pod, not even knowing she had still been awake. He had whispered that he cared for her, that though he didn't truly understand what was happening, he didn't want her to leave. And she hadn't wanted to leave him either.

And in an instant, he'd been taken.

A three fingered hand came to rest gently on her left shoulder, and she lifted her head to look at its owner. The ship was on autopilot at this point, there was no need for manual control, and so Garrus had the time to look straight into her eyes when she glanced up at him.

"I know," he said softly. It was enough. She leaned to the left, putting her head on his shoulder as fresh sobs took her over. He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her softly, letting her cry.

"I wasted my time being so _stupid_, when I should have just told him!" She cried between fits of tears. "All the time we could have had, wasted in Engineering wondering if he felt the same way instead of just going to find out!"

"Tali…it wouldn't have changed anything," Garrus held her at arm's length, looking into her visor as he spoke. "The attack still would have come. Shepard knew. He knew at the-" Even the stalwart turian choked up a bit, clearing his throat before continuing. "Even at the end, he knew how he felt about you, and you knew how he felt about you as well. That's better than most get, but I know that doesn't stop it from hurting."

She nodded slowly, he was right. It didn't stop the pain, but…at least he had said something rather than letting it end unrequited. Pulling away from him, she looked through the viewport, at her home.

"Thanks, Garrus. You didn't have to do this, I could have booked passage on a different ship."

"No you couldn't have. I wasn't about to let you try and find your own way back here with the stare you're…with the state we're all in." He stared ahead as well, looking through the Fleet, wondering where he would go now. "Besides…its what he would have wanted me to do."

She was about to break down again, to lose herself in memories that although only a week old, seemed to be from some far off time, some distant place. Just as she felt herself slipping away, the comm channel came to life.

"Approaching vessel, this Migrant Fleet Security. Halt your advance and state your intention." Sniffling, Tali summoned up the small amount of strength left in her and spoke clearly.

"This is Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, I have completed my pilgrimage and am returning home."

"Please verify."

"_After time adrift among open stars, through tides of light and shoals of dust, I will return to where I began_." she intoned, the phrase she had chosen to indicate an all-clear.

"Copy that, Tali'Zorah, welcome home. Transmitting location of the Rayya to your on-board nav computer." The info appeared as promised, lighting up a small dot on their navigation pad, and Garrus took manual control, steering the ship towards it.

As the magnetic clamps pulled their ship to the bay with a small _thud_, Tali realized it was over. Her Pilgrimage was complete. Garrus seemed to notice the tension in her.

"Welcome home, Tali. Do you have the OSD with your data?"

"Yes," she said absently patting her shoulder pocket. She wasn't here. She was still out over Alchera, searching the wreckage in her mind for any sign of the man she'd lost.

"And you have my extranet address?" He asked softly. She looked up to him and nodded. "Good, please Tali. _Please_ use it. I don't know where I'll be or what I'll be up to, but I can always spare the time to talk, ok?" She nodded again, and gave him one last hug before heading to the exit hatch.

"Thank you Garrus, for everything."

"Anytime, Tali. Just say the word."

Turning to face the hatch as it slid upwards and away, she was greeted with the site of dingy brown bulkheads laced with track lighting, a few of whose bulbs had already burned out or flickered. She stepped forward, taking her first step back on the Flotilla, and as the hatch closed behind her she could hear Garrus speaking with Fleet Security, indicating his departure. She sighed heavily, walking forward and entering the receiving area.

A detail of marines was waiting for her, and upon seeing no threat to her person or the Fleet, they stood down, returning to their posts without so much as a backwards glance. She looked around, no one had been there to greet her.

_Should I have expected someone?_ She thought bitterly to herself. _Garrus just left, and the only other person who ever truly cared is…gone._ Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she knew if she stayed alone she would lose it. She needed to get somewhere public, somewhere she'd be embarrassed to cry, somewhere she could let social pressure bottle up her feelings for her.

Stepping quickly into the living areas, she was immediately injected into a throng of moving quarians, all talking or yelling about one thing or another. She absently let her feet carry her back to her home, they knew their way well. A few people nodded to her in passing or waved a greeting, and she responded in kind, but kept to her pace.

Eventually she rounded a corner and came to it, their living space. Up two flights of stairs and down the row she walked, counting to five and turning left. A tapestry of swirls and lines, indicating everything Clan Zorah embodied and stood for, hung loosely in front of the door. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside, expecting to be alone again. It was going to be a long rest of her life, she realized with a tear.

Instead of being empty, the room's only occupant stood quickly to greet her. Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay, Auntie Raan, had come to see her home. She opened her arms and moved towards Tali as she walked in, embracing her in a tight hug."

"Tali, welcome home. I'm sorry I couldn't meet you at the docks, I got caught up in a meeting with Han, he loves to talk once you get him going."

Tali nodded in understanding, and moved to sit on her bed. Immediately her elbows came up to rest on her knees, head into her hands. Shala sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulder.

"I…we had all heard about the ship you were on. We were so relieved to hear you made it off safely but…your captain…?" Her voice held real concerned, and Tali lifted her eyes to meet Shala's.

"His name was Shepard. John'Shepard vas Normandy. And yes, he was ki-" the words caught in her throat, eliciting a small noise of pain as she felt despair threaten to overtake her again. Swallowing hard, she continued quietly "killed in the attack. He got everyone to the escape pods, he even helped the pilot with brittle bones make it out, but he…he couldn't…he's gone, Shala."

Shala'Raan vas Tonbay was a practical woman, but not an unfeeling machine. Before her sat the daughter of her best friend, whose care and upbringing she had sworn to be a major part of when Tali's mother died. Wracked with grief, she shook almost uncontrollably with tears.

_This is not the grief of the loss of one's captain_. She thought to herself, analyzing Tali's body language, the way she spoke his name. _She acts as though she has lost a family member, or a…_

Taking Tali's hand in hers, Shala turned her to look the young woman in her visor.

"You were…close to him, weren't you?" She asked tentatively. Tali nodded slowly, new tears springing to life under her visor.

"He was a good friend, an amazing captain, and…much more than that to me." She began hesitantly. "He didn't care that I was a quarian, he didn't care that I was stuck inside this damned suit. All he cared about was that I returned his feelings, that I felt comfortable and safe with him. We had just started to reveal our feelings for each other when…when it happened."

Shala patted her hand softly. Love for quarians was a difficult process as it was. Adding death into the mixture, and it was no surprise Tali was in such a wreck.

"Child, I am so sorry for your loss. It sounds as though the reasons you cared so deeply for him, his compassion, his caring, his understanding, made him a truly great man."

"He was, Shala. _Keelah_ but I miss him. What I wouldn't give to just have one more conversation with him, to lay out all my feelings instead of hiding behind this _damned_ visor." He sobs renewed, and Shala squeezed her shoulders tightly.

"I know it may be hard to see right now, Tali. But the man you describe to me…it seems like the last thing he would want would be to see you in so much pain. He worked valiantly to make sure everyone else was safe before thinking of himself. This in itself is the mark of a great captain. He wanted you to live, Tali. And soon, with time, I hope your sorrow fades and you allow yourself to live again."

Tali looked at Shala, the care and sadness evident in her eyes, and nodded, embracing her an a hug. Shala returned the gesture, and Tali's sobs slowly ebbed away.

A soft _*ahem* _ could be heard outside the tapestry that served as the door, and both women released each other as it was swept aside. Rael'Zorah entered his and Tali's home, and nodded in greeting to Shala'Raan before turning to his daughter.

"Tali, welcome home. I've heard your Pilgrimage yielded something great for the future of our people. I would expect nothing less from my own daughter." He stood in a military pose, hands clasped behind his back, all business. Oblivious to his daughter's pain. Standing, she took the OSD out of her shoulder pocket.

"Yes, father. I have foun-" she began to explain but he held up a hand to forestall her.

"Not here, Tali. Take your Pilgrimage gift to the captain of the Neema. He should be the first to know, it is our tradition."

"Yes, father." She replied curtly, looking downward.

"I must go, Shala and I have a pressing meeting soon, and then I must get back to my research on the Alarei, but I wanted to congratulate you, I know you'll make the Fleet proud, Tali."

_What about __**you**__, father? Do I not make __**you**__ proud? Would it be so difficult to say, just once?_ she thought furiously.

"Thank you, father. I'll head to the Neema right away."

Nodding approval, Rael motioned for Shala to follow and turned to leave. Shala gripped Tali's hand in a firm squeeze, giving her a look of confidence, before trailing after her father. Once again, Tali was left alone.

Looking around her small home for the last time, she realized it wasn't a home. It hadn't been since her mother had died. Shala tried, thank the Ancestors she tried, but Rael seemed to not even see her as his daughter anymore. Just another "proud member of the Fleet." Her eyes scanned the walls to find something, anything of personal meaning to take to her new home. With the data Shepard had allowed her to capture on the geth, there was no way the Neema would turn her down.

Finding nothing, she stood and left without a backwards glance, making her way towards the shuttle bays. Pulling up her omni-tool as she navigated the crowds without looking, she messaged ahead that she would need a shuttle to the Neema, as well as informed its captain she was on the way. Reaching the transport terminal, she waited for the shuttle to be prepped, opening her omni-tool again and beginning to write a message:

_To: Garrus Vakarian, C-Sec_

_From: Tali_

_Subject: blank_

_Message:_

_Garrus, I hope you're doing well. It's been a couple hours since you dropped me off, by now you're probably back at the relay. I'm sorry if my state of mind upset you, I lost…__**we**__ lost so much these past few days._

_I hope C-Sec can bring you some kind of peace. I've been trying to lose myself in the people here, being home, but…its just not working. I see his face everywhere, even in this place he's never been._

_I don't expect you to reply, please don't feel obligated, I don't want to impose. Just…I hope everything goes well for you Garrus. Best of luck, and thanks again for everything._

_~Tali_

She sent the message away with a heavy heart. It was noble of him to offer to keep in contact, but she knew he wouldn't be able to. Besides, he wasn't the one she'd fallen for, he wasn't her significant other, and he didn't need to make that kind of effort on her behalf just to prove a point.

She had not yet lowered her arm all the way when her omni-tool beeped indicating a received message. Blinking in surprise, she tapped to open it, and saw Garrus' reply:

_To: Tali_

_From: Garrus_

_Subject: Re: blank_

_Message:_

_Tali, you're not getting out of this that easily. Keep in contact or I'll come drag you out of the flotilla personally. I'm a turian, they're afraid of my germs, it'll be quite the abduction._

_Just jumped the relay and can see the Citadel now, not sure what I'll be doing, but please keep in touch. If not for your sake, then for mine._

_Family sticks together._

_~Garrus_

She closed the message as her shuttle arrived. _Family sticks together? Who forgot to tell my father?_ Stepping aboard, she sat down in the back and waited for the shuttle to take her to the Neema. To her new home.

_Not home,_ she thought to herself, remembering Garrus' message. _Home is in pieces above Alchera_.

For what felt like the hundredth time in the past week, Tali cried inside her helmet.


	3. Belief

*****Author's Note*****

**And now on to Joker! For anyone wondering, The Darkest Night will probably be about 30 chapters long. I'm planning on dedicating 3-4 chapters to each crew member (Tali/Garrus/Wrex/Joker/Liara), and then maybe one or two from Anderson's point of view or TIM/Miranda/Wilson's perspective on the Lazarus Project. Also a few dream sequences from Shepard if I can get into a sufficiently trippy mindset to write them! =P**

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Belief**

"And that's the point at which you saw the geth dreadnought, correct?"

"No. For the hundredth time, that's the point at which I saw the **reaper**." Joker emphasized the last word heavily, using his hands to gesture the two syllables. "Rea. Per. It's a word in our own language here, I'm not even asking you to stretch the imagination!"

"Yes, we're aware of the name that Commander Shepard attached to the dreadnought, but no evidence has been found to actually corroborate his claims. So for the purpose of this debriefing, we'll be referring to it as a dreadnought, Lieutenant Moreau."

Joker resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. They had been at this for hours, going over the same months of his life in agonizing detail ever since they brought him to the outpost on Elysium. They were trying to get him to incriminate Shepard as being unstable, or admit he was wrong about Sovereign.

Those were two things Joker would never do to the man who saved his life.

"Look, call it what you want, sirs, but I know what I saw. And I believe what Shepard said. That's not going to change no matter how many times we re-hash this epic adventure."

The two Alliance officers exchanged a furtive glance, then the one on the left, an aging man with gray at his temples, sighed heavily and turned off the datapad he'd been holding.

"Well we're truly sorry to hear that, Lieutenant. This was intended to be a simple debriefing, but you've shown us beyond a doubt that your exposure to the late Commander Shepard's views has rendered your own position unfit for active service."

Joker had seen this coming, he wasn't stupid. That still didn't stop it from stinging bitterly.

"You're grounded until further notice, Lieutenant." the other man said in a snide voice. Joker would have reached across and punched him, but if the shock of breaking every bone in his hand didn't knock him out, the guards outside sure would have.

"Yea," Joker said, his words dripping with sarcasm, "should I have my people call your people then? Or will you send me a nice holiday holo letting me know I got my flight restriction lifted as a gift from Santa?" The two men shook their heads and stood to leave. Joker wasn't having it. He launched to his feet, the bones in his leg straining with the effort.

"What you're doing is wrong and you know it!" He yelled at their backs as they made for the door. "Shepard gave **everything** to save your asses and you're throwing him under the bus!"

The door slid down behind them, and Joker dropped back down into the chair, defeated. He did put his head in his hands now, and silently watched tears roll down to the tip of his nose before falling onto the table.

He remembered Shepard's face in the moment he realized he wasn't making it out of there. He had shoved Joker into the bridge escape pod, and looked at him with almost pleading eyes. Commander Shepard, the hero of the Citadel, silently begged Joker to save his life. And there was nothing he could do. The pod jettisoned away, and Shepard was gone.

He had tried to message Kaidan on the extranet, but he was almost sure his transmissions were being blocked. He didn't have Garrus or Tali's addresses, which he felt terrible about. Tali had been a wreck at the funeral service, and the whole crew had done what they could to console her, but it hadn't been enough. It never would be enough for what she lost.

Standing to leave, Joker looked down into the reflective black tabletop, seeing himself in the Alliance uniform. Just seeing the navy blue felt like an insult to Shepard, and he removed his cap and holo-tags, placing them on the table. Staring at them for a minute, he wondered what Shepard would do in his situation.

_You kidding me? _He thought to himself, _Shepard would have kicked those guys' asses from here to Ilos, then asked them if they'd changed their minds yet._

Turning, Joker walked out of the room. By the time the hour was up, he had collected his last paycheck as a member of the Alliance military, and left the base. Finding a public extranet terminal, he opened up a new message to someone he knew he wasn't restricted to speak with.

_To: Councilor Anderson_

_From: Jeff Moreau_

_Subject: -blank-_

_Message:_

_Councilor Anderson,_

_I've just been "debriefed" by Alliance brass. They hounded me for hours about the mission, trying to get me to talk shit about Shepard. Wasted time. Anyway, they've grounded me, taken my wings. So I quit. This may be weird but, I need a place to stay, and was wondering if you could help me out. I mean, this may be a stupid thing to petition the Councilor of humanity for, but to me I guess you'll always be my Captain first._

_Sorry if I'm out of line here, and let me know if you can help._

_~Joker_

Exhaling heavily, Joker sent the message, then looked around the city plaza where he stood. It had been a long time since he'd actually been on Elysium, even on shore leave he mainly stayed on the ship. Wandering towards a fountain in the middle of the plaza, he noticed an empty bench and decided to have a seat while he waited for Anderson's reply.

He had watched the fountain for a few minutes when he heard a soft metallic *_ahem*_ to his left. Looking up, he saw a quarian girl waiting for his attention.

"Hey," he responded casually. "What can I do for you?" She seemed shocked by his answer, though if he remembered his conversations with Tali correctly, she was probably balking because he was somewhat polite to her.

"Um…I was just wondering if this seat was taken?" she asked hesitantly. "I've been walking around all day but this is the only seat open." Joker looked around, and sure enough every other bench was occupied. His silence seemed to embarrass her.

"I..I understand if you don't want to be seen sitting next to-" she never finished.

"Nah, forget about it," Joker interrupted, patting the seat next to him. "Take a load off."

She looked at him quizzically, tilting her head slightly to the side. He laughed.

"Means 'have a seat.'"

"Oh! Okay, I will. Thanks," she replied, sitting down cautiously, "You know, you're-"

"Dashing? I know. Its hard to make it work some days, but I manage." he leaned back to stretch dramatically, earning a laugh from her.

"-pretty comfortable around us." She finished.

"Yea, well, I just got off a tour of duty aboard a ship with a turian, a quarian, a krogan, an asari, and an entire team of salarians at one point, so I feel like my xeno-tolerance is above average at least, superhuman at most."

"Wow, must have been some mission. How did your captain feel about all of those different races aboard his ship?" She had turned entirely to him now, completely intrigued by the prospect of a good story.

"Shepard? He was uh…" Joker fought memories of the last moment he'd seen Shepard alive, and regained his confidence, "he was great. Best captain you'd ever know. He had this open mind about everyone, willing to give anyone a shot who wanted to fight for him. He didn't care what you were, he only cared what you could do."

"He sounds amazing," she agreed, "but you keep speaking about him in the past tense. Did something happen?"

Joker turned away from the fountain to look at her, and realized that this pain he'd been feeling over the loss of Shepard only stemmed partly from the pure martyrdom his friend had shown him. Ever since the attack, Joker had tried to tell the truth to anyone, and no one would have it. Not Alliance brass, not other soldiers, no one. He hadn't had anyone to tell their story to and have it be believed. Shifting on the bench, he smiled and spoke.

"How much time do you have?"

Hours had passed as they sat on the bench by the fountain, and Joker related their whole tale to her. She had responded to it better than he had wished for, gasping in all the right places, bristling with barely contained hatred when he mentioned the geth, and evening letting out a small cheer when he described the destruction of the Virmire cloning facility.

"So Sovereign was defeated, geth pushed back, Citadel and Council saved, and we headed back out into space," he began. This was the hardest part of the story.

"We'd been out for about a week, everyone just getting back to normal, when out of nowhere this ship I've never seen before jumps in and starts attacking us. I tried to maneuver around the weapons, but they were too advanced. They cut the Normandy like she was a sheet of paper.

"_Keelah_…" she whispered. "What happened to your crew?"

"Most made it out. There were some engineers on the lower decks that got hit dead-on with the weapon, but Shepard got everyone to the escape pods, even me. He practically carried me from the navigator seat to the bridge escape pod. He was supposed to come with me, but a blast knocked him away…" he trailed off, looking back at the fountain.

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you relive that." she whispered. He turned to her and smiled.

"Nah, you're the only person in the galaxy who's believed me when I've told it."

His omni-tool beeped, and he raised it to check his messages.

_To: Joker_

_From: Anderson_

_Subject: -blank-_

_Message:_

_Joker,_

_Nonsense. Catch the first shuttle to the Citadel and I'll get you set up in the Wards or the Embassy. Nothing less is suitable for the best pilot the Alliance ever lost. Message me when you arrive._

_~Anderson_

Joker breathed a sigh of relief as he re-read the message. His Captain had come through for him yet again. Then suddenly he realized that this conversation had become very one-sided. He turned to face her again, she had been staring at the fountain so as not to intrude on him checking his messages.

"Why are you here?" he asked, perhaps with less tact than he'd intended.

"Wh-what? Oh, I'm on my Pilgrimage, just got stuck here on Elysium after some _bosh'tet_ shuttle captain ripped me off and deserted me."

Joker pulled his credit chit out of his pocket without thinking and scanned it into his omni-tool. His balances popped up immediately, and he transferred a few hundred credits to a separate account, leaving several thousand in military back-pay on the chit. Closing the omni-tool, he tossed the chit to her.

"Well get back on track, then." he said with a smile.

"What? No, I can't, you don't even know me!" she fumbled with the chit, having seen its amount listed on it, she frantically tried to hand it back to him. He pushed away her hands with his.

"Lady, I'm a pilot. Always have been, always will be. I live my life on ships, and the only money I need is enough to buy a round at the bar for my shipmates. That money had been sitting in a back-pay account for eight months before I came to claim it, and I didn't miss it. So if it helps you get back on track for your Pilgrimage, I'd say that's a good investment on my end."

She stammered out a weary "Thank you" before he stood.

"Now I'm headed to the docks, I've got a friend on the Citadel willing to put me up, and I never say no to free lodging." he smiled back down at her. She stood up eagerly.

"I guess…I guess I'm headed that way too." He could almost head the smile inside her helmet.

Walking together, they made for the docks.


	4. Blood Rites

***Author's Note***  
First off, I wanted to thank everyone for the great comments and feedback I've been getting! I'll definitely be speaking a bit more about Shep/Tali's relationship pre-Collector attack, but one of the big aspects about the story is that their feelings for each other at that time are there, but very much unrequited. The scene in Ch. 1 takes place maybe a day or two before the Collector attack, and so they haven't had much time to confess to each other how they feel. This will play a much bigger part later on!

In related news, expected chapter length is now around 40, as I completely forgot Kaidan Alenko exists! School is slow at the moment, and I hope to have 2-3 chapters a week coming out, depending on how the writing goes. I'm a fast writer when its something I'm enjoying though, so I'm optimistic! Again thanks to everyone for the comments, I'm glad you're enjoying it, that's what I'm here for!

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Blood Rites**

Wrex looked out onto the dusty, windswept expanse of Tuchanka with pure disdain. Not for the landscape, Tuchanka's appearance was a testament to her people's strength, their resolution of conflict through strength and violence, and he was proud to call her home. No, Wrex looked out with disdain upon the other clans. Three hundred years had passed since he'd last set foot on Tuchanka, and he remembered clearly that last confrontation as if it had been yesterday. His father's yelled attack orders, the men leaping from the graves of the dead, spitting on the holy ground on which they had stood.

He remembered sinking his knife into Jarrod's chest, and the bloodlust that had taken hold of him as he avenged the spirits of the dead, disturbed by his father's heresy. He also remembered the flight from the battle, running to escape his treacherous clansmen.

And even now, after three hundred years away from this place, all the Clans wanted to do was defend their patch of ground, snarling at any other Clan who came near. These were not Krogan, they were rabid varren in combat suits.

His returning here had not been without careful consideration.

"Ah, Urdnot Wrex. So the claims made by the younger warriors are true. You have returned to us at last!" The clan Shaman approached him from behind, his voice booming to carry over the harsh wind. Wrex turned to the aged krogan.

"Yes, Shaman. I have returned to bring news, and to take that which is rightfully mine."

A deadly glint appeared in Shaman's eyes. "So…you intend to invoke the Challenge, then? When will we arrange the Crush to announce it?" Wrex looked back out over the scorched earth, but did not falter in his response.

"As soon as possible. I need every tribe in Clan Urdnot present. My victory will be decisive, and none will be able to later say I did not have a full consensus." Shaman smiled, an image that would send members of lesser races running to change their armor, and laughed mirthlessly.

"Very good. I'll send the messages now." He walked away, and Wrex looked back out across the expanse, forming the words he would use in his mind, so they would be ready when the time came.

* * *

"Get the hell out of here! Make for the pods, GO!" Kaidan yelled at the engineers trying to put out the fire in the corridor. They had taken one look at his face and dropped their extinguishers, sprinting for the lower deck. He had continued past the sleeper pods to get to Shepard.

"Shepard! We're going down! We have to get out of here!" Shepard turned to him.

"The distress beacon's been launched, we need to get everyone onto the pods now. What happened to Engineering?" he asked, terror laden in his voice. Kaidan had known for awhile now about Shepard and Tali's blossoming relationship, and his concern was well noticed.

"They're clear, Commander, I saw Tali and Adams jumping into a pod as I was coming up here to get to you and Joker." Shepard nodded.

"Then I need you to clear this deck and the deck below, get everyone to the escape pods. I'll take care of Joker."

"Shepard, I'm not leaving you two!" The Commander crossed over to Kaidan, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I have to get Joker, we both know he can't help himself out of this one. Especially if he's being stubborn about the ship. I **need** you to get everyone into the pods, Kaidan. I need you to make sure everyone is safe." Kaidan looked into his helmet, seeing the determination in his eyes that Commander Shepard had become so famous for, and nodded.

"Aye aye, Commander. Just don't take too long." Turning, he sprinted to the stairs, taking them two at a time as explosions rang out and fires sprang to life around him. Rounding the corner, he saw an explosion take out two crewmen running for a pod. Checking behind him, he noted the deck was clear, and jumped into the last pod with Adams, Chakwas, Tali, and a few other crew. The pod doors closed, and the small craft jettisoned away from the twisted wreckage.

"Wait! Where's Shepard?" Tali cried as the doors closed.

"He's coming on the next one, he went to the bridge to get to Joker." Kaidan replied without taking his eyes away from the scene of carnage in front of him. The Normandy twisted and burned in its death throes, the ominous enemy vessel above hammering it with that sickening yellow laser.

"There!" he exclaimed, pointing through the viewport. The bridge escape pod had shot free of the wreckage, just in time before it exploded violently, sending pieces of debris in every direction. Its work done, the enemy ship changed vector and disappeared into FTL, leaving the escape pods floating safely in the void. Pulling up his omni-tool, Kaidan opened hailing frequency on all nearby pods.

"This is Lieutenant Alenko, report in with your pod's occupants. Start at the bow, Pod 1."

A silence that lasted only moments felt like an eternity for everyone inside Kaidan's pod. When it was finally broken, Joker's voice came through, quietly and without any bit of confidence.

"Pod 1…Lieutenant Moreau."

"Joker? What about the Commander? Where's Shepard?"

"He…he didn't make it."

"No!" Tali screamed, reaching for the pod's control panel and opening her omni-tool. "We can override these controls, turn the pod around, we have to go find him!"

"Tali…he could be anywhere, his hardsuit isn't broadcasting," Kaidan started, placing a hand gently on her shoulder as she frantically worked the omni-tool. In one fluid motion she spun around, slapping away his hand and jabbing a finger into his face.

"Don't. You. Dare." Her gaze held his ferociously for a few seconds, and she turned back around, continuing to attempt to gain control over the pod's automated thrusters.

"We can get to him, I can check EM scans for his omni-tool, **something** must still be broadcasting. I can…we can…" Doctor Chakwas slid over next to Tali and put a hand on her arm. Tali looked over at her, and though no words were exchanged, she new it was over. Her omni-tool winked out, and she collapsed into Chakwas' arms, sobbing uncontrollably as the rest of the pod remained in silent mourning.

Kaidan turned to look out the window, but where the Normandy and space had been a moment before, now there was only a bright white light. It grew until it covered his entire field of vision, threatened to burn out his very existence.

His eyes shot open, immediately adjusting to the darkness of his apartment in the Wards. Outside, the sounds of the millions of Citadel inhabitants enjoying the evening echoed in through his open window. Somewhere in the distance the siren of a C-Sec car wailed.

Staring up at the ceiling, Kaidan exhaled heavily, letting the breath keep going until he had no more air left to breathe out. His head pounded and he felt immediately nauseous, and while he'd like to be able to chalk those things up to his L2 implant, he knew for a fact it had been because of the dream.

He had had it almost every night for the past week. Since the attack it was all his subconscious could process. He'd gone to the funeral, paid his respects, but he still hadn't spoken to Tali since their time in the pod. Something about her eyes when she glared at him…pure ferocity. Unbridled aggression. He had never seen anything like that before out of her, and he shivered when he thought about it.

The team had been separated. Tali had gone back to the Migrant Fleet, Liara to Illium, Garrus back to C-Sec he supposed. As far as the human Alliance members had been concerned, Joker, Chakwas and himself had been denied communications to each other, while the "debriefings" had taken place. Kaidan had told them the truth, Commander Shepard believed that the Reapers were coming to attack all organic life, and that while he was able to kill Sovereign, there could be a lingering threat in the future.

They had seemed to accept that just fine, really he supposed as long as he didn't come across as a prophet about to go wear a cardboard sign around the Presidium, they didn't care how he felt. They had released him the same day, and given him leave time to recover from the mission. Anderson had put him up in one of the nicer areas of the Wards, and he had spent most of that time asleep. It was the one way he could escape the feeling of guilt he had.

He should have made Shepard come with him. How, he wasn't sure. But he should have done **something**, something other than let the man die to save a stubborn helmsman who didn't know when it was time to just abandon ship.

Kaidan stood up and got out of bed, crossing to the window to look out at the arms of the Citadel above and to the sides of his field of vision. Shepard had saved this entire station, and Kaidan hadn't even been able to save one man. Stepping away from the lights and sounds, he walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower and hoping he could burn away some of the regrets he knew he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

With the rushing water hammering his body and the immutable sounds of his own memories and thoughts berating him as he stood under the stream, Kaidan was unable to hear the double-chime of his omni-tool as it sat next to the bed, indicating receipt of an urgent message.

* * *

"Tribes of Clan Urdnot! This Crush is brought to order!" The Shaman's voice boomed over the heads of the almost two thousand Krogan in attendance. Wrex had thought the turnout would be large, but not this large. Not only did every tribe of Urdnot send its leaders, but most of its warriors as well, and Wrex could have sworn he'd seen some of the heads of the Female tribes as well mixed in with the rest. Each tribe stood apart, physically as well as politically Wrex realized as he stepped up onto the large stone slab with Shaman.

"Urdnot Wrex has returned to Tuchanka after three hundred years wandering the stars," Shaman began. "He called this Crush to order, he shall now speak."

A murmur went through the crowd. Hushed voices, some young warriors asking who the hell Urdnot Wrex was, older warriors telling them to shut their mouths before one of the greatest Battlemasters the Krogan had ever seen. Some even his age whispering questions about his right to call the Crush in the first place.

"Broodbrothers and sisters," he began in a harsh, gravelly voice, "The last time I set foot on Tuchanka, I killed my father, right here on the Hollows. My men and I were lured with talks of compromise, of actions beneficial to all of Clan Urdnot, and then we were attacked, cowardly, by those within our own Clan." He stopped to let the tale sink in.

"In my travels with the human Commander Shepard, I witnessed a great and terrible new enemy to the galaxy: the Reapers. A race of miles-long sentient starships, whose goal is to eliminate all organic life." He heard the sounds he had expected: disbelief, mockery. But he had planned for this.

"Some of you may not believe, and if I were in your position I would be skeptical as well. But what Krogan would lie to his Clan about the promise of such a battle? A battle the Krogan would sing of for millennia to come? I for one welcome their arrival. They shall understand first-hand the might of the Krogan! Our unstoppable bloodrage!"

Many more cheers and fists came up than shaking heads or crossed arms. The name Urdnot Wrex was known to any true warrior from the Citadel to the Migrant Fleet, and Wrex knew he was winning over the crowd if not for his words, than for the sheer value of his name. Now for the hard part…

"To defeat this threat, this the greatest threat we have ever faced, I propose that which I proposed three hundred years ago, that which could have saved our people from the situation we now find ourselves in. I propose to unite the tribes of Clan Urdnot, form a strong, cohesive Clan, and then unite other Clans as well. As a united people, the Krogan will wipe any enemy from the face of the galaxy in a hail of bullets and blood!"

Even more cheers went up at his imagery, he almost had the whole crowd won. _Now or never,_ he thought. Stepping forward to the edge of the slab, past Shaman, he placed one foot forward in a powerful battle stance. The effect was instantaneous. The crowd silenced, the only sound in the area being the wind whipping across the plain.

"I will unite Clan Urdnot. I will unite the Krogan to stand against our enemy." Taking a breath, he bellowed his Challenge.

"**I am the chief of Clan Urdnot! Who dares stand against me?**"


	5. Powder Keg

***Author's Note***

It was a tougher decision than I thought it would be on whether or not to give Chakwas a first name. But to be honest I had always thought it was mentioned as Carol in the game somewhere. After playing back through 1 and 2 I noticed its not, but her V.A.'s name is Carolyn, so maybe I picked that up somehow.

Anyway, I hate working with characters that only are referred to by their last name, seems so much harder to make them relatable, so I apologize if anyone is offended that I have named her after her voice actress. I'll try not to mention it too much! =\

As always, thanks for the comments, and enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Powder Keg**

Garrus piloted the shuttlecraft through the Widow Nebula and back towards the Citadel. He'd been fortunate that the Migrant Fleet had at the time of their departure been passing very close to a mass relay, so the return trip for Tali had only taken a few hours of his time.

_Not that it was a waste of time. I'd have taken her wherever she needed to go._ he thought to himself. After everything they'd been through, he was as close to Tali as he was to his own sister. Probably more so, now that he thought about it. When was the last time Solana had picked up a rifle and followed him into the fray?

Garrus chuckled at himself, and immediately felt terrible about it. Shepard was gone, the Normandy was destroyed, and Tali was devastated. It hadn't been his place to ask, but he'd always felt there was something more between the two of them, though neither of them seemed confident enough to admit it.

_Should have said something, could have given them a push_, he thought remorsefully.

He had gotten Tali's message, and responded to it in kind. Whether she wanted it or not, he was going to be there for her. She was intelligent, and resourceful as hell, but she was also so overcome with grief right now, and rightfully so, that he was genuinely concerned for her safety. He'd only been partially joking about dragging her off the Flotilla…

Requesting docking clearance with Citadel control tower, Garrus landed the ship and walked back onto the Presidium, stepping up to the railing and looking down into the water below. It churned and eddied as it reflected the sky panel overhead, and Garrus wondered for the first time in his life what he was going to do. He could try to make amends with Executor Pallin, though his C-Sec resignation when he left to follow Shepard had been…less than formal.

Re-applying for Spectre training was out of the question, not only had his father blocked him before but the Council was already doing everything it could to cover up what Sovereign truly was, and that meant putting a gag order on anyone who used to be on Shepard's team. Garrus slammed his fist down on the railing, earning some wary looks from Presidium passerby. Why couldn't they see what was right under their noses, what had literally come crashing through their window?

He wouldn't dare admit it in front of Tali, as her pain had already been too great, but he was lost without Shepard. He'd spent months following the man, chasing down Saren, and Tali's bullet in the bastard's skull had ended that mission. Now he was adrift, floating between the red-tape nightmare of C-Sec and the lawlessness of hunting mercs. He needed somewhere to bide time, somewhere to think, and still do his part.

Deciding to figure it out as he went, Garrus took the lift down to the Wards, wandering towards C-Sec Academy and his old office. He had no doubt they would have given it to someone else by now, but at the very least he could try to collect his last paycheck. Wandering through the shops and markets, he rounded a corner to see an unfamiliar scene on the Citadel proper.

"Stay back! Everyone just stay back or the bitch gets a couple pounds lighter!" A man yelled, his gun pointed at the head of a hostage. Not just any hostage, Dr. Chloe Michel. That poor woman just couldn't keep from being a target, he thought as he calmly approached.

Garrus fumed, but stayed in the back of the forming crowd. Two human C-Sec officers stood between the crowd and the hostage, trying to talk him down. Garrus circled quietly behind as they spoke to the criminal.

"Come on, give it up! There are cameras all over the Citadel, backup will be here any minute, there's no getting out of this! Let the doctor go, and we can negotiate." The criminal cackled.

"'Getting out of this'? What the hell you think is going to happen when Eclipse finds out I got their shipment confiscated? Nah, the only way I'm getting out of this is by taking the good doctor's wares, and getting a free lift back to Omega. **Then** she can go!"

Garrus felt a dangerous smile creep across his mandibles. The crowd, and the two C-Sec officers, had by now noticed him move behind the criminal, and thankfully had not been stupid enough to alert him to Garrus' presence. In one fluid motion, Garrus stepped up behind the man, hooked his gun arm upwards, and brought his left elbow crashing into the human's temple. The man dropped to the ground unconscious.

Clapping and cheers ran through the crowd, but Garrus disregarded them as he approached the two C-Sec officers.

"Thank you, sir. I don't know w- Garrus?" One of the humans recognized him at last. "When did you get back on the Citadel?"

"Just now, actually." He remarked, still looking at the unconscious body of the assailant. The other C-Sec officer had moved away to assist Dr. Michel, and Garrus turned back to the officer who had recognized him.

"What do we have on Omega? Last I heard it was a shit-hole."

"Man, that's putting it lightly." The officer replied, accessing his omni-tool. "It's a major hub for Eclipse, the Blue Suns, and the Blood Pack. Anyone not in a gang there is either trying to get into one or trying to stay out of their way. Most of the station is run by a single person, asari looks like. I imagine the gangs pay her a cut to operate in-system."

This idea was sounding better by the minute.

"Thanks. Have Pallin forward my last check to my private account, I've got a shuttle to catch." he finished with a smile. Stepping forward, Dr. Michel caught his arm.

"Garrus, is that you?" she asked hesitantly. He turned back to her and smiled.

"Sure is, Dr. Michel. You just can't stop making trouble for yourself can you?"

"Well it's tough for a girl on the wards." she said in mock annoyance, crossing her arms. "Good thing there are people like you to help me out." He laughed.

"Not for long, I'm afraid. Just stopped back in to get a few things, then heading out again."

"Oh? With Commander Shepard I take it? Where are you two off to this time?"

Her words put an knot in his stomach. In the heat of the hostage crisis he'd almost forgotten about Shepard. She caught the look on his face and a wrinkle of worry creased her brow.

"He's um…Shepard isn't around anymore. The Normandy was attacked, we still don't know by who but…Shepard didn't make it out." He looked away as he finished, out the viewport behind them at the lighting marvel of the other arms of the Citadel. Dr. Michel put a reassuring hand on his arm.

"I'm so sorry, Garrus. I didn't mean to…I'm sorry." Turning back to her, Garrus forced a confident smile on his face.

"It's alright. The spirits take us all, eventually. But Shepard showed me that I'm not fit for C-Sec. I can't do good work here, there's too much red tape. Fortunately, that criminal just pointed me in the right direction."

"Well then come with me, Garrus. If you're going to Omega, you'll need medical supplies, I can guarantee that."

He laughed softly and followed her back to the clinic. His path was set. All that was left to do now was walk it.

* * *

Doctor Carol Chakwas sat alone in a darkened office, the only light being the soft orange glow of the Haptic interface terminal in front of her. Sovereign's attack on the Citadel meant that the majority of the soldiers involved in the fight were being treated there, and that left little work for her to do at the Mars Naval Medical Center.

Holding a glass of brandy, she continued to look over the few medical charts she had at this facility, soldiers injured in routine patrols, minor gashes and fractures, nothing serious. She sighed softly and downed the last of the brown liquid in one swallow.

Leaning back in her chair, she put her arms behind her head and stretched. It had been like this for a month now. Every since her "debriefing" by Alliance brass, she'd be shipped planetside and left to rot in a medical center that saw few patients and treated even fewer serious injuries.

Remembering the debriefing irritated her. She'd come to the conclusion long before coming in for it that if she showed any sign of belief in what Shepard had said, they'd keep her off a ship for the rest of her career. And yet, knowing why he died, knowing he ran to the bridge to save Jeff, she couldn't knowingly say such things about his character.

She had told them there was absolutely no medical proof to corroborate their theory that the Commander had become "disillusioned with reality" as they'd so tactfully put it, and in a moment of indignation, had pulled up both of **their **medical records on her omni-tool right in front of them, and in no small amount of words told them **they** were more likely to be insane that the late Commander ever may have been.

She'd received the transfer notification thirty-six hours later. She was surprised it had taken that long.

Laughing to herself in the dark, she still had trouble believing she had done such a thing. She was the voice of reason on the Normandy, the helpful Doctor who kept everyone's head on straight, and now she goes off on some crusade for Shepard's posthumous dignity.

"I'll have to pick up some chain mail before I try that next," she thought aloud, chuckling at the thought.

Leaning back, she closed her eyes and let the brandy sing her to sleep. She wouldn't be returning to her quarters tonight, she much rather preferred the solace of the infirmary. Sleep was beginning to dawn on her when her terminal beeped twice in rapid succession.

Opening her eyes, she leaned forward again and studied the terminal with a quizzical brow. Not an extranet message, but a real-time chat window was open on her screen. As far as Carol knew, that kind of capability wasn't installed on normal Alliance terminals, much less the ones here. Rubbing her eyes clear, she studied the single line message in the window.

"Clipped your wings, did they?"

The cursor in the reply field of the message blinked steadily, waiting for her input. Who would message her, especially at this hour? Partially due to her quixotic nature as of late, and otherwise due to the brandy, she decided to indulge her extranet stalker.

"Well, when the mother hen starts pecking at the farmer's hands, I suppose there's only one recourse."

A few moments passed before the next message came.

"With the reports I've read, seems more like an enraged hawk than a hen, to use your analogy." She couldn't stifle the laugh upon reading the message, and it echoed throughout the empty room.

"Fair point. What reports have you been reading? Who is this anyway?"

A full minute passed. Just when she was beginning to believe the game was over, the reply came.

"Just a friendly dog, with an offer to put you back in the sky."

* * *

"Omega? Really Garrus?" Executor Pallin had heard about Garrus' heroics outside the clinic, and had intercepted him at the C-Sec Requisitions Office. Garrus had been examining a new Mantis sniper rifle when Pallin stormed in with the question.

"Why not? Its as good a place as any to get rid of some scum." He continued to look over the weapon, not even looking at his old boss.

"You think I wouldn't like to just take a team of C-Sec agents, storm down into the Wards, and start taking out xenophobic gangland garbage as I see fit? That would be fantastic, would get a lot of work off my back in the process. But I **don't** do that Garrus." A long silence fell between them, and Garrus stopped checking the rifle to look Pallin in the eye.

"Why not?"

"**Because it's illegal, Vakarian!**" The man was seething now, and he stepped forward, grabbing the rifle out of Garrus' hands and placing it back down on the table.

"First of all," Pallin yelled at the requisitions officer while pointing at Garrus, "**he** is not a member of C-Sec anymore, so why the hell is he even looking at this stuff?" The human behind the desk worked his mouth furiously to come up with words, but wasn't fast enough for Pallin.

"Secondly, how the hell do you think you're going to **get** to Omega, Garrus? If you think I'm letting you take that C-Sec shuttle again, you're sorely mistaken. That poor quarian girl crying her eyes out got the shuttle for you last time, but unless you have a bag full of them you carry around, I think you'll have a bit tougher job of convincing me this time."

Garrus had stayed silent throughout Pallin's tirade, a smirk ever-present on his mandibles. The man rarely lost his cool, but when he did it was a nuclear event. Garrus secretly wished he'd have had his omni-tool recording, he was going to miss moments like these dearly.

"And what the hell do you think you're going to do when you get there, huh? You going to just go find a 'Gangs of Omega' breakfast club and start shooting up the place?" Pallin crossed back to Garrus, slamming a finger against his cobalt armor. "Mark my words, Garrus. If you go to Omega, you're not coming back out. I know you, I know how you operate, and in an ideal world I wish I could have a hundred like you. But there are rules for a **reason**, Vakarian. You have to follow them!" Garrus leaned in close to Pallin to respond.

"Not on Omega."

Pallin seethed, his face inches away from Garrus'. Then, like a fire running out of fuel, any hope of convincing him drained out of his countenance. Throwing his hands up, he turned and walked towards the door, calling over his shoulder.

"Let him have whatever he wants. And take the damn shuttle, Garrus. For what its worth, it was nice knowing you, kid."


	6. Pain

***Author's Note***  
Halfway through writing this chapter, I'm asked from across the room what  
the hell I've been smiling about for the past five minutes straight. It's not an  
inaccurate statement. I smiled a lot writing this chapter, though not in the  
beginning.

Again, thanks for reading and commenting, you all are fantastic! In response  
to one of my comments, I **do** have something planned for Joker, and had  
considered making the quarian on Elysium be Lia'Vael already, still toying about  
with the idea. You'll know when I do! =)

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Pain**

The soft but persistent beeping of her omni-tool signaled to Tali that it was 04:26, the time she'd indicated she wanted to be woken up. She had already been awake, though. Unable to sleep the night before, she'd stared at the roof of her quarters on the Neema and wondered if true, peaceful sleep would ever find her again.

Swinging her legs over the side of the mat, she stood up and left her room, knowing exactly where she was headed. She used to wander the maintenance areas when she needed a refuge, a place to be alone and let the sorrow she held at bay consume her for a few hours. Now, she'd learned the paths so well, walked them so many times, that even as she stifled a yawn behind her visor, her legs carried her assuredly toward her place of mourning.

As she reached the secluded alcove between water pipes, she sat, bracing her back against them, and checked her omni-tool again. 04:40. Five minutes. She leaned her head back and looked up. She knew that above her, through the thick metal bulkheads and miles upon miles of service shafts and maintenance pipes, people were walking, talking, laughing, living their lives. Tali had forgotten how to live. She had buried herself in her work, tending to the Neema's drive cores and engine readouts as if they were children, to the exclusion of all else, hoping to numb the pain through tedious work and the self-sacrifice of extra hours and shift covering.

It hadn't worked. She still cried sometimes, silently behind her visor. She still saw his face everywhere, but for the past few months, a growing void had been forming within her. She cried less, but felt dead inside. She had become more withdrawn from everyone around her, focusing solely on her work in Engineering. Her people needed her skills and her work, they didn't need her feelings or her thoughts.

She checked her chrono again just in time to see it change. 04:45. Her blood ran cold and she fought off a shiver. Exactly one year ago to the second, The Normandy's drive cores had exploded in an intense nuclear flash. One year ago, Shepard had died choking in space over Alchera, and no small part of her had died there as well.

She cried for the first time in a month, the sorrowful, empty feeling being pushed away by pure sadness and remembrance. She remembered Kaidan's face as she had promised cold murder with her voice and eyes, remembered Chakwas' comforting arm, remembered collapsing. She remembered the feeling the moment she knew it was over.

Wanting, needing to focus on something, she pulled up her omni-tool and opened up the extranet file service Shepard had used. She'd been trying to crack his account for the past four months, hoping beyond hope that he'd left…anything in there to remind her of him. A holo of the crew or a journal he'd kept, anything she could hold onto, anything to physically manifest this pain she carried.

She knew his username, she'd seen him enter it numerous times. But the password eluded her. She ran through her list again, trying them all in the entry field. One by one, they were denied, the small red-bordered "Access Denied" box blinking at her in mockery of her attempts. Anger rose in her, what had he used for the password that she couldn't remember?

"Come **on**, you little _bosh'tet!_" She yelled, slamming her hand against the omni-tool in frustration. Leaning her head back, she let her mind wander into memory again.

_She had woken up from the pod, still embarrassed about the night before, but feeling oddly rested. Walking into the mess, she froze. He was there already, sitting alone at the table. Glancing around to make sure she wasn't hallucinating, she confirmed that yes, indeed he was there, alone. Walking over to the table quicker than she'd liked to have admitted, she took the seat across from him, startling him out of his morning stupor._

_"Oh! Good morning, Tali. How are you?" he said with a smile. Wiping his mouth, he'd folded his arms on the table and looked her in the eye. Her heart had fluttered._

_"Good morning. I'm feeling alright, though I must say," she began, presenting a quizzical tone to her voice, "I'm a bit concerned, Shepard." His eyes turned serious in an instant._

_"Why's that? Is something wrong?"_

_"Well it's just…" she trailed off, inviting an interjection, bait he took quickly._

_"Tali, whatever it is, you can tell me. I'll do anything I can to help you."_

_"Well…alright." She looked around the deck for effect, then continued. "It's just that…last night I distinctly remember being in Engineering with Adams checking the drive core readings. I saw that the examination was going to take at least another hour to complete, so I sat down with my back to the bulkhead. I guess I dozed off but…I woke up in the pods just over there. So unless I'm suddenly sleep-walking multiple decks…something is very wrong here."_

_He had fidgeted nonstop as soon as she had mentioned last night, and truth be told she had enjoyed watching him squirm under the pressure of knowledge he thought she didn't have._

_"Well, ah…" he began. "Funny thing. I came down to Engineering and saw you curled up in a ball beside the console. I was having a talk with Adams but I didn't want to just __**leave**__ you sitting there on the floor..." She jumped in immediately._

_"So you had Adams carry me back to the pods? Great, that's not going to be awkward at all today…"_

_"No, Tali, actually…__**I**__…carried you back here." She gasped in mock surprise. He wore a slightly pained expression on his face, as if unsure how to expect her to respond._

_"So you, with your broken arm and bruised spine from the Sovereign fight, carried me across two decks, and placed me in that pod? Am I getting that right?" She leaned back as she spoke, crossing her arms._

_"That…is correct," he responded. The expression still lingered on his face._

_"Well then," she began, leaning forward and placing her folded arms on the table to mimic his posture, "I suppose I owe you some thanks. That was the best sleep I've gotten in quite some time." He exhaled loudly, relief apparent. It was all Tali could do not to laugh aloud at the sight._

_"So you're not mad that I…I mean I just know that physical contact is more…important to quarians and I didn't want to…ah what I mean is…" She reached forward and placed a hand on his, halting his stammering._

_"It's quite alright, Shepard. Calm down. Everyone on this ship trusts you with their lives, including me. I think I can trust you enough to touch me every once in awhile."_

_She had only intended to touch his hand to calm his speaking, but unconsciously she had let it linger there. Noticing it now, she didn't want to pull it away quickly and give the wrong impression, and Shepard hadn't tried to escape it…_

_As she decided what to do, he covered her hand with his other and whispered to her._

_"Only every once in awhile?" The grin he wore was a disarming one, meant to send the message that he was only making a joke, the boundary-pushing kind of joke he and Garrus were famous for. But after last night she couldn't help but think he sincerely meant it. Still, her cheeks flushed at the implication, and she pulled her hand away from between his, slapping them once as she laughed._

_"You and Garrus, both. Filthy-minded _bosh'tets_." He had laughed with her, but the word caught him off guard._

_"What-now's? I think my translator just broke…" She smiled behind her visor. For all the software updates, she was glad the people writing the translator code never bothered to translate race-specific curses. It would just lessen the impact._

_"_Bosh'tet_. It can mean a great many unsavory things, but the closest word would be 'degenerate,' in your language. Though it's a curse in ours, and hence much more offensive when used."_

_"_Bosh'tet,_" he sounded the word out. "I like it. I may start using it in casual conversation. Especially with Garrus." They both laughed as he stood._

_"Well, I should get to the bridge, make sure Joker isn't flying us directly into a sun or towards the nearest Asari dancing bar." She stood as well, crossing her arms and giving him an appraising look as she titled her head to the side._

_"And what would you know about Asari dancing bars, Commander?" He quickly turned and made for the stairs, calling back over his shoulder._

_"Nothing! Absolutely nothing, ma'am!"_

_Shaking her head at him, she laughed aloud and made her way down to Engineering to check the drive core._

Reality snapped back into place and an idea popped into her mind. Opening up the omni-tool again, she entered the phrase she'd taught him. The familiar red-bordered box was replaced instead with a green one, "Access Granted" inside its frame. Her heart stopped, and she sat straight up with the shock. On the holgraphic screen in front of her, a huge list of stored files appeared, and glancing over it she saw a plethora of items he had uploaded. They were mostly mission summaries, military debriefings and the like. However a few personal files were mixed in as well, and she perused the entire list.

Her heart warmed a bit as she saw not one but two copies of the geth data, just in case she'd lost it or had it taken from her. There was only one image stored, and she opened it. It was a time she remembered well. Shepard, Garrus, and herself, all standing in the CIC. Garrus had just teased her about her immune system for what had probably been the fiftieth time that day, and she'd had enough, reaching out for his neck.

Shepard could be seen in the middle holding them both apart, but the open-mouth smile on his face and closed eyes indicated the laughter she remembered hearing as he had tried to keep them from killing each other. Tears came back to her eyes and she downloaded the image to her omni-tool. She then sorted the entries by Date Uploaded and froze.

_Item 342: Omni-Tool Voice Recording - Uploaded: 1 year ago_

Her finger trembling as it approached the holographic interface, she selected the recording and listened. The first and most audible thing was the background noise of the recording, the constant, high-pitched _hiss_ of decompression. She knew as soon as she heard it that this file was the thing she had both hoped and dreaded to find for the past few months. Shepard's voice cut in between gasps for air:

_"T-Tali…I'm sorry. I beat around the bush too long…I tried to justify it away, tell myself…tell myself that you were just going to leave soon and I'd…have to give it all up anyway. But I…I can't die without you knowing. Hopefully you can…crack my box password, you taught me the word after all…I'm crazy about you, Tali'Zorah. Have been since…since we found you in that back alley on the Cit-…Citadel. I always felt happy around you, happy and calm…Want…want you…to be…happy, too…"_

The _hiss_ in the background became louder and louder until it drowned out anything he'd been saying, and seconds later the recording ended.

Tali sat stunned as her omni-tool waited for her to indicate how she wanted to proceed. The void within her chest, the creeping dark feeling that had prevented her from feeling anything these past few months, shattered in an instant. Every feeling she'd had on the day of his funeral came back in full force after hearing his voice speak only to her. Cold pain settled in her heart, the blade of a knife informing her not-so-subtly that he had loved her; and that she had loved him as well, that she did even still.

She didn't cry. She didn't shake with muted sobs. She simply stood, and walked back to her quarters. Pulling up her omni-tool on the way, she sent a message to Shala, asking to speak with her as soon as she was available. She had her reply before she reached her room: _"Now. I'm always available for you, Tali."_

She deviated course, walking calmly at first, then jogging, and finally sprinting full-tilt towards the shuttle that would take her to the _Tonbay_, tears streaming from her eyes as she ran.

* * *

John Shepard was very confused.

This was not a state of mind he was unaccustomed to being in. After all, he had mentally interacted with a Prothean beacon, had untold numbers of Asari mind-scans done on him, and had battled a gargantuan sentient machine attacking the universally-accepted social center of the galaxy. His life was prone to confusion, and in large doses.

But this was different. John floated in a black void. At first he thought it may be space, but where were the stars? The planets? Ships or cosmic debris? Nothingness surrounded him as far as he could see, and he freely floated in it. The only sensory input he had was an awareness of a dull buzzing on the edge of his range of hearing.

Reaching up, he scratched at his ear, even digging a finger inside for a moment before removing it, but the noise persisted. Looking around, he couldn't identify the source, but the noise began to grow louder, and become accentuated. Eventually it turned into a steady beeping, once every second, a natural cadence, but he still couldn't find the source.

More muffled noises…voices? They began to get clearer as time progressed.

_"Can't…for the…kick in."_

_"Look…monitor you idiot…vitals!"_

_"Dear God, Mir…coming arou…"_

_"GET THE SEDATIVES PUMPING NOW!"_

The last line had been yelled, and shattered the dark void around him. His eyes snapped open, and he screamed as the white fluorescent light above burned his retina. Or at least, he tried to scream. What came out instead was a sickening gurgle. His eyes quickly swung to the left, avoiding the glare of the bulb and going wide with panic. They found a face. Female. Caucasian. Black shoulder-length hair.

Sudden pressure on his upper chest, holding him down. She put her face between the stinging light and his eyes, centering herself in his vision.

"Shepard! Shepard, calm down! I need you to stay calm! You're in a hospital, everything is okay!" His eyes swung to the right, past the back of the bald technician working frantically at his medical terminal, and finally settled on the far window of the lab, where he could see his reflection.

He was a charred carcass on a table. His eyes grew even wider as he saw his mutilated body, and in an instant, as if waking from a short nap, his brain realized one simple truth about a body in the state he was looking at: It should hurt. A lot.

Immediately his pain sensors came back online, and he tried to scream again. The sickening gurgle re-emerged ten-fold, and blood sprayed from a cracked vessel in his throat, coating the woman's arm in a red slick. She grabbed his cheeks in both hands and turned his face back to hers. Her hands felt like hot irons on his marred face, but he looked her right in the eyes as she spoke.

"Shepard, goddamn it I need you to **focus**!" She had his attention. "I **know** it hurts like hell right now, but all your friends, your shipmates, you **can** see them again. You're going to live, Shepard I promise but you **have** to let me do my job! Now blink if you understand me."

He tried to blink, but only one eye was covered when he did so. Trying again, he realized his other eyelid was completely missing. She seemed to read his mind.

"I know, I'm working on that, okay? I need to re-sedate you before any permanent damage is done so listen to me. I need you to focus on a memory. Pick one, any one, and hold it. Focus on it until the sedatives kick in. Can you do that for me, Commander?" He blinked again.

Trying to ignore the lights, the pain, and the muttered curses of the bald lab technician to his right, John constructed the memory he knew was his favorite. An early morning mess table, the single hand of a quarian girl held between his two. His vision blackened around the edges, and in his mind's eye he focused on their hands joined together.

If this woman would give him a chance to see Tali again, to hold her hand as he had before, he was damn sure ready to fight for it. He held the memory through the pain that felt like fires erupting across his body, magma in his lungs and veins. He held it until the blackness overtook him, and he slipped away again into the comfortable void.

* * *

Shepard's eyes rolled back in his head, and Miranda heaved a sigh of relief as his vital sign readings returned to stable levels. In one fluid motion, she leaned back off of the operating table she'd knelt on to subdue Shepard, crossed around behind it, and punched Wilson cleanly in the jaw. She had approached from behind, and he hadn't seen it coming. The strike floored him.

"What the fuck, Miranda?" he yelled as he rubbed his jaw.

"I'll tell you 'what the fuck,' Wilson," she said, closing for another strike. "You almost signed the death warrants of all three people in this room just now! I told you to run the **fucking** numbers again. From now on, I ask once, and if you question my orders, I shoot you in the head and find a new lab tech. Are we clear?" She pulled out her pistol and slammed it against his temple to emphasize her point.

"Yes! Christ, alright Miranda, yes!" He shied away from the gun, crawling as far away from her as he could get. She relaxed, and re-holstered the weapon. Letting her rage subside, she returned to her normal, icy visage.

"Good. Now get the hell out of my sight. Now I have to run systems checks for the next five hours to make sure you haven't just made the Commander a vegetable. And you're lucky that my want to be rid of your presence is overriding my fondness for efficient time management right now."

He walked, albeit quicker than normal, to the door and left Miranda alone with Shepard. Looking back towards the Commander, Miranda sighed.

"Well, happy anniversary of your death, Commander," she said morbidly. "You sure know how to make an entrance, I'll give you that." Her hollow laugh rang about the otherwise empty operating room.


	7. Knowing the Threat

***Author's Note***  
I'd like to apologize in advance for any typographical or grammatical errors  
that may be noticeable in this piece. To be perfectly honest with you, dear  
reader, I don't particularly enjoy writing Liara (or TIM to much extent), and  
so waited until 3/4 a bottle of wine was gone to start this chapter.

I think it turned out alright, but I may be making revisions tomorrow morning =P

As always, enjoy, and thanks for your comments! =D

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Knowing the Threat**

Jack Harper sat alone in the darkened room, swirling the glass of Tennessee whiskey in his left hand while watching the slowly-burning ember of the cigarette in his right, as he contemplated his own name. He had been known as Jack Harper once, back when he fought the turians in the First Contact War. But that war had claimed more lives than there were bodies to represent them, and Harper was a testament to that idea.

Shanxi had been a turning point for humanity early on in its space exploration, he thought as he watched the ember at the end of his cigarette burn slowly through the rolled tobacco. Jack Harper had died in a turian assault of the colony world, and from the ashes of his corpse had risen the Illusive Man. He knew the sacrifices humanity would have to make to stand strong against the threats of the galaxy, knew well the cost of failure in the galactic eye.

Shaking his head ever so slightly to bring himself back to reality, he checked the six different holo-terminals that floated silently in front of him. The Illusive Man tracked no less than six different projects at any given time, but the steadily blinking indicator of a report by Operative Lawson indicated that he was about to be updated on the most important of them all. Selecting it with an outstretched finger, he leaned back and sipped from the glass as she started immediately.

"Commander Shepard is stable, sir. I've checked Wilson's numbers and the diagnostics her performed, and have concluded the incident to be a miscalculation rather than an act of intentional sabotage. Wilson is stupid, but he isn't mad." A sharp, cutting smile pierced his lips at her assertation.

"Not yet, at least. Give him a few more months under your command, and we might well change that." He saw the faintest hint of a smile on her face through the holo-projection. She was his top agent, and he allowed himself a bit of familiarity with her because of it.

"Be that as it may, he's a skilled technician, though I would never tell him to his face." Her icy eyes only emphasized her implied hatred of the man, but he had placed her in control of the Lazarus Project, and he knew she would get the job done no matter who her subordinates were.

"And what about Shepard? What's your current estimated time to completion of the Lazarus Project?"

"Currently, with tissue synthesis running and non-vital organs being brought back online, we're looking at about fourteen to fifteen more months to complete rehabilitation." Even through the holo-projection, she seemed to feel his displeasure at her analysis. "The incident itself hasn't set us back more than a few days, its just a lot for his body to take. If we push it, it **will** fail us." He nodded silently, content with her answer to his concerns.

"I trust you, Miranda. Use your best judgment, but get the Commander back in action as soon as possible. He's the best hope this galaxy has, but I suppose I'm preaching to the choir in saying that, aren't I?" She smiled.

"Most definitely, sir. Don't worry, the Lazarus Project will be a success if it's the last thing I do."

"I certainly hope it isn't the last thing you do, Operative Lawson. Cerberus has great need of your talents."

"Understood, sir. Lazarus Station signing out." Her holo-projection winked out of existence.

Tapping the image of one of his other terminals, it expanded to fill all six slots. Detailed information panes about Sovereign filled its screen, including known technology readouts acquired from security terminals on the Citadel. Taking a long draw from his cigarette, he looked at the data for the millenia-old killing machine for what was easily the hundredth time since receiving it, trying to glean anything new, anything he'd missed before. Another terminal flashed behind his full-screen image, an incoming report. He slid Sovereign away with one hand and tapped the terminal with the other. The still image of a flight helmet greeted him.

"Sir," the face began, "We've investigated the planet Klendagon, more specifically the Great Rift valley on its surface."

"And? What did you find?" He leaned forward slightly as he spoke. He had been waiting for this report for days now.

"Sir, the Great Rift valley is most certainly not a natural formation. Our best ballistics analysis has determined to ninety-six percent accuracy that the Great Rift was formed by a mass accelerator weapon of...unimaginable power."

_Reaper._ he thought, _It's the only option than makes any sense. But I need proof._

"Continue your search of the system. I need to know what fired that shot and if it's still anywhere near Klendagon. A shot like that would drain the main power drive of any known ship in the galaxy; perhaps it was a death throe."

"Understood, sir. Patrol ship 4-Gamma, out." The holo-projection cut out, and the Illusive Man leaned back in his chair. He wouldn't move until he had more intel, but so far their results had been to his expectations. Something was wrong in the Mnemosyne system, and hopefully, he would soon have Commander Shepard to look into it. Activating an extranet message terminal, he composed a message to one of his lead research scientists.

_To: Doctor Chandana_

_From: Cord-Hislop Aerospace - Human Resources Division_

_Subject: Re-assignment_

_Message:_

_Dr. Chandana, hoping this message finds you well. Management at Cord-Hislop Aerospace has noted your progress improving over the past few months, and have decided unanimously to promote you to a new position overseeing some of our most cutting-edge aerospace technology._

_Please respond at your earliest convenience, as we are most excited to offer you a position in which you can directly effect the future of our great company!_

_Sincerely_

_Richard Keene,_

_Cord-Hislop Aerospace, Human Resources_

He send the message away with a smile. New information was never bad information.

* * *

Liara walked calmly through the Nos Astra trade floor, and even though she had a bodyguard with her, still felt extremely nervous. Illium was just Omega with a prettier coat of paint, she had heard said many times, and right now she was quite able to believe it. Everywhere she looked she caught glances from people, glances of immediate distrust and skepticism. It had been the same anywhere else she'd been on the planet. Illium was the gateway to the Terminus Systems, and as such was implicitly dangerous, despite what the advertising would have her believe. Still, she needed a place to operate out of, and for an information broker, Illium may just be the best place in the galaxy to settle.

"Dr. T'soni?" The asari real estate dealer Liara had been trailing throughout Nos Astra had stopped, and was looking backwards quizzically at her. Shaking away her uncertainties, Liara maintained her standoffish visage.

"Sorry, I was distracted by the...diverse population," she remarked with a feigned grimace for the local passerby. The asari ate it up.

"Yes, doctor, this area of Illium is rather well-known for its mixture of inter-galactic races, being that it is closest to the main docks that any vessel enters through. If you like, we can look at some of the more asari-centric areas..." She trailed off, hoping her client would take the bait to splurge on the higher-price properties.

"No, that's quite alright, Senthia. Show me the place you brought me here to see."

"Of course, Dr. T'Soni. Right this way." There was no small hint of disappointment in her voice as she led Liara off of the main trade floor and up a flight of stairs to an overlooking office. It was perfect.

"Here it is, doctor. It's small, but the-"

"I'll take it." Liara said without hesitation, opening her omni-tool and transferring the whole amount to the broker immediately. Senthia's eyes went wide with shock.

"O-of course. I'll file the paperwork...congratulations on your new property, ma'am." Stunned, she walked out of the room without a further word.

Liara crossed to where Senthia had stood, a large, multi-paned window looking out over the trading floor. Yes, this would do nicely, she thought, turning to the small desk in the middle of the room. Setting the box she had been carrying down on its surface, she opened the lid and removed the two things inside it.

The first was a small padded case, containing the holo-tags of one Alliance Commander John Shepard. She placed it delicately on the table, staring at it intently and remembering her time aboard the Normandy. Not only had Shepard saved her from certain death at the hands of the geth, he'd trusted her on issues pertaining to her mother, and even given her a place aboard his ship. He'd trusted her to invade his very mind and piece together Prothean memories, and while she'd never understood exactly **why** he'd been so trusting, she had appreciated it immensely.

With a sting of pain in her heart, she remembered the night before Ilos. She had gone to him in his quarters, confessed her growing affection for him, and her feeling that theirs might be a relationship that could grow into something special. He had spoken softly, but steadily, telling her he didn't feel the same way. Telling her there was something...someone else he had felt close to.

She hadn't known who he spoke of at the time, but when he had glanced over her shoulder, she had seen his eyes widen. Looking herself, she had seen Tali standing apart, her fingers working together as they always did when she was nervous. She had smiled to herself then, knowing the truth even if the two of them hadn't figured it out just yet, and apologized to Shepard, leaving their relationship as it had been when she'd arrived, simply friendship.

Reaching into the box again, she removed a holo of a male drell. Feron. Anger rose within her as she remembered their flight from the wrath of the Shadow Broker, and the difficult decision she'd had to make. She had been with Shepard when he worked to dismantle Cerberus. She had seen the rage in his eyes whenever he encountered their troops or one of their operations. And even after all of her time fighting them at his side, she had given them his body readily.

Silently, she hoped they could bring him back. If not for her sake, then for Tali's. She'd been in so much pain at the funeral that Liara had felt bad for being so jealous of her budding relationship with the Commander. She had held the quarian girl as she cried her eyes out, felt the pain physically radiating off of her as only an asari could, and felt sorrow in it.

Feron had not been with her at the funeral. The Shadow Broker had taken him, and Liara had spent every waking moment plotting revenge for the death she somehow **knew** he had suffered at that bastard's hands. She noted with little shock that her hands had clenched into fists, and she relaxed them with some effort. Setting the picture frame on her desk, she sighed softly and sat down, opening up the terminal and initializing her personal accounts.

Once her personal information had populated the screen, she saw a flashing indicator letting her know she had two unread messages. Both listed their source as _" - Unknown -" _but she had not expected anything less. Opening the first gave her stomach pause until she finished.

_To: Dr. Liara T'Soni_

_From: Cord-Hislop Aerospace, Special Projects Division_

_Subject: Your Donation_

_Message:_

_Dr. T'Soni, hoping this message finds you well in health. Our Special Projects Division wished to thank you again for your immense contribution to our cause in the pursuit of ever-improving technology. To update you on the status of your most recent addition to our efforts, your investment is rapidly increasing in worth, and is expected to reach full maturity very soon._

_Once again, thank you for your interest in assisting Cord-Hislop._

_Sincerely,_

_Sarah Hirsch_

_Director, Special Projects Division_

She knew the name and company were all fake, the email she had received was from Cerberus. Still, her heart held hope. It meant Shepard was recovering. Whatever crazy project Cerberus had started was paying off. Soon, Shepard would be back among the stars, defending them all from certain doom. Closing out the first message, she opened the second.

It contained only one line, and after reading it, Liara slammed her fist down on the desk, tears welling in her eyes. Standing calmly, she left her office and went in search of a place to get a good stiff drink. Her extranet terminal locked out the moment she left, but when she returned hours later, and more drunk than she'd ever been in her life, she'd seen the message again:

_To: Dr. Liara T'Soni_

_From: An Old Acquaintance_

_Subject: Welcome_

_Message:_

_Dr. T'Soni, welcome to Illium. I look forward to the number of options I have to kill you here._

_- The Shadow Broker_


	8. Challenges

***Author's Note***

So in a risky maneuver I have gone ahead and decided to  
make the quarian Lia'Vael. This means that as The Darkest  
night progresses, you'll see her story be quite a bit different  
than it was in canon ME2. I hope that's not too off-putting, but  
hey, it's fan-fic, right?

I really appreciate everyone reading and commenting. I know I  
say that every chapter, but the other day I was having a pretty  
shitty day, when my phone beeps at me and I have like 6 unread emails  
that are all "So-and-so liked your story, added it, reviewed it, etc.," and my  
day was instantly awesome again. So thank you again to everyone, I'm  
doin' it for you! =P

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Challenges**

The body of Urdnot Grath crashed to the ground with an ear-splitting _crunch_. Normally, his corpse would have fallen into the soft dust of Tuchanka, creating a cloud of the same dry material that would slowly settle. Today, however, his remains crashed into a muddy mixture of dirt and blood, alongside the remains of the four other challengers to Wrex's claim. The crowd around them roared, both in anger at Grath's death and in approval of Wrex's victory. Staring down at his body, and the bodies of the other krogan, Wrex re-traced the last seven hours of his life.

_The crowd had been shocked by the challenge he'd issued, quickly dividing into supporters and dissidents to his rule, and voicing those opinions quickly. Shaman had stepped down off of the slab, leading Wrex to a circular hole in the crowd that was beginning to form. Every krogan in attendance knew the ritual, and whether or not they agreed with Wrex's challenge, tradition __**would**__ be seen to. _

_Shaman led him to the center of the circle, raising his jagged Clan Knife, and intoned:_

"_This krogan, Urdnot Wrex, has claimed rule of Clan Urdnot! He will sacrifice his blood to see it so!" Taking the blade, Shaman sliced across Wrex's arm, letting his blood drain into an ancient skin he always carried with him. The crowd was completely silent as the hallowed ritual continued. Shaman got enough blood, then walked away from Wrex and poured it to the ground as he walked the edge of the circle formed by the crowd._

"_To the ground of Tuchanka, he returns the blood in his veins, cementing himself to her soil. Here, and only here, in this ring of his own creation, the sacred peace of these Hollows may be broken." He finished the circle and returned to stand by Wrex, raising his hands as he continued._

"_No ruler of krogan, no chief of Clan, attains his position through words or diplomacy. He does not claim a position of power, he __**takes**__ it by force. Such is the way of our people. Such is the way his rule will be decided. Who challenges Urdnot Wrex's claim?"_

Four had stepped forward, four had fallen to him in single melee combat. Wrex had not faced off against the pups of the tribes, but battle-hardened warriors. Still, they yearned for nothing more than to stand apart, they wanted the legacy of Urdnot to be a litany of failure and possessive squabbling. He desired more for the Clan. **His **Clan. And that desire gave him a strength to dwarf any krogan.

Even so, Wrex was not without his injuries. Grath alone had torn a huge gash in his left arm, Urdnot Korr before him had nearly gouged out Wrex's left eye. Both wounds bled profusely, yet Wrex stood steady, sending his uninjured eye scanning around the gathered crowd, daring any other challengers, welcoming them.

"I challenge you, Urdnot Wrex. Your ways break with the tradition of our people." The voice rang from the crowd, and intensified in volume and anger as its speaker approached, the others parting for the new challenger. "You seek to unify the krogan, to have us all answer to you alone? The very suggestion defies our people's nature, that of conflict!" Wrex sneered in disgust. He was tired of this same excuse.

"Our nature is battle, not meaningless feuds being fought while a greater enemy gathers strength! I am surprised you do not see the truth in this statement, Urdnot Wreav."

Wrex's broodbrother looked very much like him. They were both powerfully built krogan, and each had had centuries to perfect their combat abilities. This would not be an easy fight, but it would likely be his last, he thought to himself as Wreav approached the circle. Wreav was always too proud of himself, of course he would wait until the other challengers had worn Wrex down. Yet if Wrex could kill him, he was sure no others would challenge him. Shaman intoned again as soon as both of Wreav's feet were within the circle.

"Urdnot Wreav, your challenge to Wrex's claim is accepted. Only one of you may leave this circle. Begin when you are ready."

Wreav wasted no time, bellowing and charging across the circle. Wrex did the same, and a titanic _thud_ emanated outwards as the two towering krogan slammed into each other. Their arms locked, and Wrex delivered a decisive headbutt that send Wreav backwards. Quickly regaining his stance, Wreav began to circle the ring, causing Wrex to do the same.

"You've spent too much time away from home, _brother_," Wreav taunted, spitting the title at him. "You've forgotten our ways, even _serving _ a _human_, of all things!" Wrex laughed in his face.

"Ha! The last thing I did was ever _serve_ Shepard, you mongrel. And if you had seen that _human_ in action, you'd have stained your armor. Too bad you won't get that opportunity." Lunging at him with a right punch, he was unsurprised to see Wreav step back to the right to dodge it. Wrex followed through, turning his body and connecting his left elbow to Wreav's face as he spun. Blood sprayed away from his certainly-broken nose in a striking red fan, but Wreav paid it no mind, extending both hands and gripping Wrex around the throat. Having leverage, Wreav hurled Wrex to the ground and moved to close on his body.

Wrex rolled to his back just as Wreav came crashing down on top of him. The massive krogan's fist came hurtling at Wrex's exposed face, but Wrex caught it in the palm of one hand. The second punch came and he caught that as well, clutching both of Wreav's fists. The pressure was tremendous, and Wrex did the first thing that came to mind: he began to squeeze. Wreav winced at the vice grips holding his fists, but continued to push, and Wrex's defense began to crumble.

Summoning all the strength still in him, Wrex crunched Wreav's fists in both hands, hearing bone snapping and sinew popping beneath the gloved masses. Wreav leaned back and roared in pain, giving Wrex enough room to fly forward, headbutting Wreav again. His opponent tumbled backwards off of him, and lay on his back trying to get to his feet without the use of hands.

_Time to send a message,_ Wrex thought with finality. As Wreav struggled, he turned his back to him, reaching down to the still-warm corpse of Urdnot Grath. Hooking two fingers under the body's headplate, Wrex roared and ripped the entire piece free in a shower of cartilage, blood, and brain matter. Turning again, he carried the sharp bone plate over to Wreav, and dropped to one knee, planting that knee squarely on his opponent's chest. Reaching out, he grasped Wreav firmly by the forehead, and without words slammed the bone plate into his throat. Blood shot out in every direction from the wound, and Wreav's eyes went wide as he frantically gurgled, trying to stay alive.

Calmly, and with precision, Wrex removed the plate, then stabbed again, and again, and again, until Wreav's body stopped twitching with each consecutive attack. Slamming the bone home one more time, he left it, pinning the corpse to the ground. Covered in blood, he stood, placing one foot forward and again bellowing:

"**I am chief of Clan Urdnot! Who dares challenge me?"**

No one stepped forward. Shaman stepped into the blood ring and again intoned:

"Does no one else refute Urdnot Wrex's claim?" The crowd was motionless and silent, save for the occasional blood-soaked gurgle emitted from Wreav's dying body. A full minute passed, and though some krogan looked aside or out across the plain, most looked Wrex straight in the eye. They knew he had emerged victorious, they knew he was the Clan leader now, and they were sizing him up. Wrex let a sadistic smile cross his lips for the first time in a long while, and waited as Shaman finished.

"Then it is done! The Challenge is complete, and Urdnot Wrex has rightfully earned the title of chief of Clan Urdnot!" To Wrex's surprise, almost every krogan in attendance burst into cheers, pumping thier fists into the harsh sky.

Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

* * *

"So I told him, 'Telas, you **can't** push the drive core anymore, if you give it any more power the couplings will break and we'll be dead in the water!' And he just says 'What do you know about it, Lia? You're not even a full adult yet!'" Joker had been listening intently to her story, genuinely interested since it concerned ships and ship parts. That was something he'd quickly come to realize over the past few hours: he loved talking to quarians, because most of what they wanted to talk about consisted of ships. Lia'Vael was no exception. He laughed at the last sentence.

"Oh I bet you just took **wonderfully** to that," he replied. She laughed at his comment, a soft, metallic noise that he thought should probably feel offensive to his ears, but it never did.

"Had my friends not been there with me, I think he may have been spending the next few minutes studying the deck instead of his engine readout terminal!" Joker could believe it. On their way to the shuttle station she had more formally introduced herself, Lia'Vael nar Ulnay. The way she talked about the Flotilla made him want to see it, and it definitely brought her out of her shell to talk about her home. He found that once she stopped being nervous to talk to him, she was actually quite animated. He silently wondered if all quarians were the same way.

Joker had been nervous at first when they started to walk, his careful, placed steps belying the symptoms of his Vrolik's. She had tilted her head when she looked back at him, as her pace had taken her a few steps ahead. Stopping, he had sighed heavily and explained the disease to her. To her credit she had not gasped or seemed to pity him. And to his heightened respect for her, she had not tried to console him.

"_I understand what's it's like to be trapped by one's own body," _she had stated softly, understanding prevalent in those white eyes. He had smiled, and they had walked together towards the spaceport at a slower pace, like nothing had happened. Now they sat aboard a small shuttle about to disembark for the Citadel, having returned to her stories aboard the Ulnay.

"So what happened?" His question held genuine enthusiasm.

"Well of course the _bosh'tet_ wouldn't be told how to do 'his job' by someone of my standing, so he pushed the power systems. The coupling to his right blew in a **shower** of sparks," she gestured with her hands to indicate the explosion, "and we heard the bulkheads above creaking as the ship came to a complete standstill." Joker's mouth hung open, and she continued.

"So he begins to panic, and I rush over to shove him out of the way, **so** many curses coming out of my mouth. I draw back the power supply to stop the sparking, then lock it in steadily and bypass the defective coupling. While my friends are trying to keep this idiot at bay, I grab a spare coupling from a scrap bin nearby, run to the damaged one, and replace it in twenty-six seconds."

"No, no, no, Lia. Look I was willing to believe this story up to now, but you and I **both** know changing out a defective coupling takes at **least** a minute and a half." He looked at her with a disbelieving gaze.

"Twenty-six seconds. I know because that's exactly how long it takes the captain's lift to go from the bridge to the engineering deck on its own track, which is exactly what happened." She laughed as she continued her recollection. "I tightened the last brace on the coupling and slapped the Power Re-Distribution key on Telas' control panel **just** as the lift doors opened and the captain walked in. I can't imagine what he must have been thinking, seeing Telas being restrained by two children, and a young girl, not even off to Pilgrimage yet, fixing his terminal and coupling. He asked what was happening," she trailed off, apparently lost in memory for a moment.

"So what did you tell him? I mean Telas sounds like he had it coming, did he get in trouble?" She started back to reality.

"Oh, no. I told the captain that the coupling had blown of its own accord, Telas had been hit by some of the sparks and was injured, and that he had been yelling orders to me to fix the system. By that time, the ship was moving again, and the captain left." Joker noticed his mouth hanging open for the second time today.

"Really? I mean come on, why cover for the guy when he was such a jerk to you?" She affixed him with a look that held no anger, no violence, just confusion.

"B-because…he's family. He may have been prideful in his work, but his Pilgrimage earned him the right to take pride in the service he gives to the fleet. In truth I spoke out of turn, but we are all family aboard the ships, there isn't any room for petty revenge." He nodded slowly, even knowing that were their positions exchanged, he'd have let Telas have it.

"Sorry, Lia, I didn't mean to insult you or anything, just trying to understand," he smiled, and the way she tilted her head meant she returned the gesture, or so he hoped. "Are…are you smiling?" She laughed as he ventured the question.

"Yes. Yes I am."

The shuttle's thrusters roared to life, and Joker was suddenly very aware of how loose his harness was. He tried to tighten it, but the straps were already as tight as they would go. And even so, they left a good inch or two of space between his back and the seat. Once the ship hit FTL to head for the relay, the jarring would be…most unpleasant for him. He planted his feet on the deck and pushed himself back into the seat as best he could. As the ship exited Elysium's atmosphere, the engines began to whine as they prepared for the crossover to FTL speed. Joker swallowed hard and closed his eyes. The ship jumped.

Seconds later, the ship dropped out of FTL speed in front of the system's mass relay. Every passenger lurched forward against their restraints…except Joker. With his eyes still closed, he had awaited the inevitable sound of soft crunching as one or more bones broke with the stress, but he heard nothing, and the only pain he felt was a soft pressure against his chest. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see a three-fingered hand pressed against him. Though only slightly larger than a human hand, the force it was able to exert was surprising, and it had kept him steadily against the seat back.

Following the arm attached to it led his eyes back to Lia. When his eyes met hers, she tilted her head again, the clear indicator of her smile. He smiled back.

"Thanks, Lia…that saved me a lot of pain." He had never been on the receiving end of any assistance that didn't have some measure of pity attached to it. Poor Jeff, such brittle bones, he needs all the help we can give him because he's **disabled**. But Lia's help, this simple gesture, there was no pity in it, just a desire to help a friend. How had he met this girl only hours ago?

She simply nodded, and removed her hand as the ship hit the mass relay, her words unspoken meaning more to him than anything she could have said.


	9. Rumor

***Author's Note*****  
**Fun fact: Wilson's character in ME2 is voiced by the same  
actor who voiced Spike Spiegel in _Cowboy Bebop_! I knew there  
was something familiar about him...Anyway, even when playing  
through ME2 I never got **why** Wilson betrayed Cerberus, then  
I read about his deal with the Broker and knew I had to write it in!

Also, I've been very sad that the last we saw of Tali was Chapter 6,  
but I'd been promising myself that Chapter 10 would be about Garrus.  
So expect Chapter 10 to be a **big** one, since I'm just going to smash them  
both together. I've been itching to write more of Tali's story, since  
it's become a very dark one in my planning NotePad file!

* * *

**Chapter 9 - Rumor**

"I just don't see how it's necessary," the turian said, distaste palpable in his words. "C-Sec has had a large enough influx of humans since the geth attack, putting more in charge as a 'sign of good faith' seems pointless. They're practically crawling over the Wards as is." Anderson fumed.

"You know, you could do a lot worse than to at least try to mask your outright loathing of my entire species, Councilor." The holographic version of the turian balked a bit. To his credit, the salarian councilor nodded slightly. The asari turned to her holographic counterpart.

"Councilor Anderson is correct. We are all working together to rebuild in the wake of the attack. And have you already forgotten which species it was that sacrificed so much to save this Council?" He nodded his head solemnly at her reproach.

"I...apologize, Anderson. This whole mess has me seeing enemies in every shadow." Anderson waved away his statement.

"It's alright, I understand. But while we're on the topic of saving the Council...I wanted to present an extranet transmission I received this morning. Something this Council may find interesting. I'm uploading it to your terminals now," he tapped a few keys on his omni-tool, and could see the message arrive in all of their holograms. He looked back down to his own omni-tool to re-read the message as he'd done at least ten times already this morning.

_To: Councilor Anderson_

_From: A Friend_

_Subject: Shocking News_

_Message:_

_Councilor, in the wake of the Reaper attack on the Citadel, we've taken every step towards preparing this galaxy for an imminent attack. And while some may argue money is best spent on large guns or fleets of ships, I know exactly where it's most important._

_We're bringing him back._

He lifted his eyes, they had all finished reading at the same time.

"How do we know this isn't some sort of bait, or prank, Anderson?" The turian's question held genuine inquiry, not admonishing, which surprised him.

"This came to my private terminal, right on my omni-tool. I don't give that address to anyone, and the only way someone would know it is if they were able to datamine my personal military record, which needless to say is under heavy encryption." The turian nodded thoughtfully.

"Do you have any idea who would want to send you such a message?"

"Well, I think we all know who "him" is. The real clue is that it wasn't sent to the entire Council, whose lives he saved, but just to me. Just to the human."

"Cerberus," the salarian said, just over a whisper. "The information we have on them is slim at best. They may very well have the credits to attempt such a feat...but we've all read Lieutenant Alenko's report on what happened over Alchera...the technology involved to resuscitate after that...does it even exist?"

"Hard to tell," Anderson agreed. "But we have had multiple reports of human colonies going dark in the Terminus Systems. Cerberus knows they're outside Council space, maybe they're taking over the colonies outside our jurisdiction, shutting them up, using them for some kind of sick experiments again."

"Yes, we all remember Shepard's reports on their endeavors..." the asari councilor trailed off, almost shuddering before continuing. "It seems quite plausible that Cerberus is the sender of this message, Anderson. Unfortunately we can't send any military might into the Terminus." Anderson nodded, but stepped forward.

"I understand. The Council can't send anyone in. But I have an idea that may give us some eyes and ears out there at least."

* * *

Kaidan sat upright on the couch in the living area of his apartment in the Wards. The vid-screen was active, his least favorite reporter going over the headlines of the day. He hated watching Al-Jilani do the news, the woman put such a sarcastic sneer on any good news from a non-human source that you could swear she was a Cerberus sympathizer. Changing the channel, he found a children's cartoon featuring a krogan that looked surprisingly like Wrex mowing down some rachni. He allowed himself a small chuckle at the resemblance, and at the fact that the galaxy still thought them extinct, then turned off the screen, standing and stretching.

The screen had been on through the night, and he hadn't stopped watching it. Sleep came little or not at all these days, and when he did fall unconscious, he without fail dreamed of that night above Alchera, and the failure he had committed. He walked silently to the bathroom, stifling a yawn and looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, and a thin layer of stubble rested on his face. As he wondered what he would look like with a beard, his omni-tool beeped. It was Anderson, requesting a meeting.

_Shave it is, then_, he thought as he picked up the razor and made quick work of his facial hair. Dressing in his sharpest military uniform, he slid the mirror panel aside and grabbed a bottle of eye drops out of the cabinet behind. The bottle was one of seven behind the mirror, he had had much need of them of late. Locking the apartment door behind, he left to meet the Councilor.

When he arrived at the embassy, Kaidan was shown to the familiar human balcony overlooking the Presidium. Standing at parade rest near the edge, he looked across the way to the Conduit, still standing in the same place it was when Shepard flew through it to stop Saren. Kaidan had been on board the Normandy when it happened, but to hear Garrus tell it, they had barely made it through in time.

_Commander_, he thought as he stared at the Conduit, _you didn't deserve the death you got._

As he continued to think about the Commander, Anderson walked in unnoticed. Spying Alenko staring at the Conduit, he approached slowly, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder in consolation. He jumped at the touch, but turned his head slowly.

"You wanted to see me, Councilor?" Tension was laden in his voice, Anderson noted. Had he not shown up when he did, Alenko may very well have choked up watching the monument.

"Yes, Lieutenant, I did. I have an important assignment, but there's some information you need to be made aware of beforehand." Kaidan turned fully to him and nodded. Anderson continued. "This doesn't come from the military, or Alliance Intelligence. This comes straight from my personal terminal." Kaidan raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

"I'm going to come right out and say it, Alenko because this isn't going to be easy for you to hear." He cleared his throat and Kaidan waited. "We have good reason to believe that Commander Shepard may be alive. And working with Cerberus."

Kaidan felt his mouth begin to hang open, but couldn't stop it. His mind was numb. All the pain, the self-hatred, the frustration and feelings of futility...and Shepard was alive? With Cerberus? Anderson showed him the message he'd received on his omni-tool, clearly a jab from the para-military organization.

"We...we have to contact him. We have to figure out why he's working with them. You know how many Cerberus operations Shepard and the rest of us shut down, there's no way he's with them willingly. They've brainwashed him...or...I don't know. It's impossible, Anderson. The Shepard I know would **die** before working for Cerberus."

"The Shepard you know **did** die, Alenko! In space over Alchera. Whatever...abomination Cerberus is constructing now can't be Shepard." He placed a hand on Kaidan's shoulder again as the soldier looked away. "As much as we both want it to be...it can't be."

"Still, we have to know how Cerberus is doing this, I want to see this Shepard clone. I want to know it's not him."

"I understand that, Alenko, and so does the Council. Which is why I'm going to put you in a position to find out. Something is attacking human colonies out in the Terminus. We don't know who, but entire colonies go dark instantly, and by the time we get a team out there, everyone is gone. Obviously the Council can't do anything, but the Alliance can. I've gotten the go-ahead from Admiral Hackett to send you to Horizon, the highest on our list of colonies likely to be next attacked."

"You think Cerberus is behind this," Kaidan said slowly, piecing it together. Anderson nodded.

"They can operate wherever they like, and they've been known for doing anything to advance their technology. I wouldn't put it past them to 'sacrifice' colonies of humans to further the greater good, as they see it. We're sending you out with GARDIAN laser towers, get them installed for the colonists and help them in their defense." Kaidan saluted.

"I'll get it done, sir. When do I ship out?"

"As soon as possible, it will take a few months to get the towers set up and online, and the colony may not even have that long at the rate they're disappearing." Kaidan nodded in response. "And there's one last thing, Kaidan. I also just got confirmation from Hackett for this."

Anderson crossed to his desk and opened it, bringing a datapad and a small metal container over to Kaidan. Opening the container revealed a new pair of holo-tags and a metal armor stripe.

"You're being promoted to the rank of Staff Commander, Alenko." Kaidan took the container from him, and stared down into it. Eventually, he spoke softly.

"I'm replacing Shepard." Anderson waited for him to raise his eyes to meet his own.

"No one can replace Shepard, Alenko. But if not for you half the Normandy crew would be dead now. And you've been instrumental in our investigations into Cerberus since that time. Now we're sending you out into the Terminus, where if the odds hold you'll probably run into whatever Cerberus is trying to pass off as Shepard. You deserve this, Kaidan. You're no one's replacement." Kaiden slowly nodded, then snapped to attention, satisfied with the response.

"I won't let you down, sir." Anderson affixed the bar and tags to Kaidan's uniform, then saluted him back.

"You never have, Commander."

* * *

The darkness of the crew quarters Wilson shared with three other technicians on Lazarus Station was absolute. Wilson laid on his back in the bottom bunk, one arm tucked behind his head and under the pillow, the other laying against his chest. His mind wandered back to earlier events, Shepard's early regaining of consciousness, the blood spraying, his body thrashing. Wilson closed his eyes and shook it off.

His omni-tool beeped, and the immediate orange glow stung his eyes that had adjusted to the complete blackness. Pulling his sheet over his glowing wrist, he checked the holo-terminal and felt his stomach tighten. In the middle of the screen sat a real-time FTL comm chat window. In its box sat only a single line.

_**Is he dead?**_

Swallowing hard, Wilson tapped on the keyboard to reply.

_Not yet. Tried today, reduced sedative numbers, he came to, screaming and spraying blood everywhere. Miranda saved him. Again._

**_She is becoming troublesome._**

_Won't find any argument from me on that point. Still its not as though I can just shoot her._

**_No, of course not._**

_You...you still want me here?_

**_Of course, Wilson. I need you to complete your task. I'm not on a specific time frame with this, but as with all deliveries, sooner is better than later. And we don't want Shepard waking up. That will make your task...infinitely more difficult._**

_Agreed. I'll contact you when I have more information._

**_I will work on a solution to Ms. Lawson._**

The message disappeared, but the knot in Wilson's stomach lingered. He had seem so calm, so collected, but he had heard all too well the price people paid for failing the Shadow Broker. Truth be told, Wilson was surprised the Broker bothered to speak with him directly. Shepard's body must be of the utmost importance, if the Broker's actions and the size of the paycheck he'd offered Wilson were any indication.

Closing his omni-tool, Wilson laid his head back down and closed his eyes. Sleep still would not find him, as he wondered what the Broker was going to do about Lawson. Shaking his head, he dislodged the thought from his mind, that was for the Broker to worry about, all Wilson needed to do was formulate a foolproof plan to covertly assassinate Commander John Shepard. Piece of cake.

Wilson groaned.


	10. The First Step

***Author's Note***  
I lied. It's an all-Tali chapter. I just can't help it, dear reader.  
As soon as I start to write Tali I get lost, and before I know it  
the chapter is done. I promise chapter eleven is all about Garrus,  
I'm working on it as you read this!

Every chapter I write about Tali makes me itch more and more to  
write the Freedom's Progress chapter. I'm almost chomping at the  
bit to get in and start writing _For We Are Many_, so I can start re-  
introducing these two lovebirds. But all things in good time, venom,  
all things in good time. _;

* * *

**Chapter 10 - The First Step**

_"Want…want you…to be…happy, too…"_ The _hiss_ of decompression became louder and louder, just as it did every time Tali had listened to the message on the shuttle over to the _Tonbay_. Tears still ran down her cheeks behind her visor as she held her arm out, omni-tool replaying the message for Shala'Raan. As the recording cut out, she slowly lowered her arm. Shala, whose hand had gone to the side of her helmet as soon as the message began, sat in disbelief. This human, her captain, had spent his dying breaths telling her he cared for her.

Shala had originally been supportive of Tali in her grief when she returned from Pilgrimage, but after a year's time to mourn, she had wondered what still troubled the young girl. She worked diligently at her post, made sure everything on the _Neema_ ran smoothly, but she also avoided others, retiring to her quarters the second her shift was over. For a social-centric people like the quarians, this was extremely odd.

"Tali..." she began after a long moment of silence. "Child I am so sorry. These past few months I had begun to wonder why you still cried behind your visor, why you still haunted yourself with these things. But listening to this...hearing the passion in his voice...I understand now, Tali. You..." she hesitated. Her next words were quite serious, and she took a moment to make certain she was completely sure about them. Seeing the expectant look in Tali's eyes, the way her hands lay on top of each other, not even intertwining as they usually did when talking about sensitive subjects, Shala nodded. She was certain. "You had begun the path of bonding with him, hadn't you?"

To the credit of Shala's statement, Tali did not start, or appear shocked in any way. She simply lowered her head and nodded. Shepard had showed extreme care for her, saving her life on the Citadel, letting her join his crew, allowing her to keep copies of classified military data. That last act had shocked Shala when Tali had told her. Among quarians, stealing of any sort, much less from the military, was unthinkable. Shepard had risked everything to help Tali complete her Pilgrimage, and try as she might, Shala just could not rebuke the man for his selfless actions.

"It hurts more than I thought it would," Tali began softly. Shala wanted to cross to her and embrace her, but she restrained, letting the other woman finish. "I spent the past year trying to forget things, trying not to feel...anything. I convinced myself that anything we had was in my head, despite what he whispered to me that night in the sleeper pod. I convinced myself he didn't know what he wanted, he was delusional or just light-minded from his victory at the Citadel. Then this...Shala..." she looked up, right into Shala's eyes. "There's no going back after having heard this. I know everything I felt, everything he felt, was real." Shala found herself nodding before she could restrain herself. Tali truly had begun the bonding path with Shepard. Sheer curiosity prodded her to continue.

"Would you exchange places with him, if you could?" Shala asked the question with care, but Tali needed no time to think. She shook her head vigorously. "Why not?"

"Because I wake up every morning wishing I had not! I go stand at my terminal in Engineering and count the seconds until my shift is over so I can return to my quarters and try to sleep, try to lose consciousness so I don't have to be awake and feeling the pain of his loss every **second** of my life!" Tali's voice rose in anger, almost offended at being asked this question. "I look out into space on the observation decks and wonder how much it hurt him to die in its cold vacuum. He's been dead for a **year**, Shala, and my heart still weeps for the pain he must have felt in those last moments!" Her shoulders shook with what Shala knew to be sobs, but her voice quieted, almost as if her previous statements had not occurred, and she whispered.

"The pain I feel every day...I would rather die. I would never want Shepard to suffer the way I do." She fell silent then, looking down at her clasped hands.

Shala was stunned. Tali had bypassed any initial hesitations of bonding to Shepard. The way she gave of her heart to the man, the way she refused to take his place, that he would suffer as she suffered...their connection was much deeper than Shala had previously thought. Her heart ached for Tali all the more, and she stood, crossing to the woman she considered a daughter, and hugged her fiercely. Tali responded, and her body shook with tears. As they held each other, Shala's terminal beeped, a message from Daro'Xen, requesting a conference.

"Tali, I'm sorry...I-" Tali held up a three-fingered hand to stop her.

"I understand. Thank you for talking with me, I'll just...go back home now."

"My quarters are always open, child." Tali nodded and left. Shala sat down with a heavy sigh, and accepted the call.

The noise of the hundreds of _Tonbay_ inhabitants assailed Tali as she walked back to the shuttle docking bay. Looking out the viewports as she passed, she thought about what she had said to Shala. Leaning her head forward, she let her visor touch the transparent wall, wondering how it felt to die in space.

_I've lost everything_, she thought. _Barely back from Pilgrimage, barely an adult in the eyes of my people...and I've lost everything I care about._

She was certain no one could ever care for her as Shepard did. Despite all his needed lessons about her people, he seemed to just **understand** Tali. He wanted to be there for her, his jokes always made her laugh, and occassionally punch him. His touch had been the warmth of a sun on her body. A sudden realization came over her. She'd spent the last year trying to let him go, trying to rid her mind of memories of Shepard. And it hadn't worked. But she'd spent that time here, on the Flotilla, at her terminal, reminding herself of all the times he'd come down to speak with her.

She'd been happiest in the field, fighting at Shepard's side, keeping him safe. Maybe...maybe if she could get back into the field, she could make her peace with him by keeping her own people safe? It seemed like a silly idea but...was it really any crazier than crawling through maintenance pipes and crying for hours on end? Suddenly renewed, she turned from the viewport and made for the shuttles. Once she arrived, she set a course for the _Neema_. She needed to speak to Admiral Gerrel.

** ** ** ** **

"You're going to need to run that by me again, Tali." Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema had stopped pacing in his tracks, a habit he had developed over years of listening to mission reports or issuing them to teams, and looked Tali'Zorah right in the eye. She didn't falter as she repeated her previous statement.

"I want to be transferred into the combat regiment of the Migrant Fleet Marines, Admiral. My fights against the geth in multiple systems during the hunt for Saren Arterius have displayed my exceptional combat ability, and I want to use that ability to protect the Fleet."

"Tali...while I'm never excited at the prospect of turning down new recruits, the team you worked on chasing Saren was a collection of some of the best, and it was headed by a Council Spectre...Besides, your technical expertise has helped the _Neema_ immensely, from what I hear you're a living legend on the Engineering Deck."

"I don't want to be stuck here on a ship for the rest of my life," she began, desperation creeping into her voice as she spoke. "Maybe it's something my Pilgrimage has done to me, but I can't **stand** the thought of spending every day doing nothing but watching drive core readings and being the occassional consult to a maintenance issue!" Han moved back towards his desk, fingering through datapads left there until he found the one he was looking for.

"Alright, I understand, Tali. Look, I'm not going to put you into a combat team straight away, alright? No matter how much you think you know, its hell out there, kid." She bristled at his statement. He and Shala both. She was an adult now, but demanding to be treated as such was in its own way childish. What an irony. "However, I do have a small strike ops team I'm putting together. This is a **non-combat** team, Tali. Enemies engaged **only** as a last option. I could use someone with tech expertise on it. Its mostly recon work, but it would get you off the fleet, maybe...keep your mind occupied."

She looked at him, and recognized the small amount of concern in the look he gave her. Everyone knew of Tali's old captain, the great Commander Shepard. And everyone knew she still thought about him, still woke in a cold sweat after dreaming about his death again. She nodded.

"Thank you, Admiral. I'll be happy to help however I can."

"Excellent, Tali. Here's the relevent information, I believe a solid tech expert is the last slot the team was looking to fill, so operations should be underway shortly after your arrival. Report to Squad Leader Kal'Reegar vas Neema as soon as you're able."

"Understood, Admiral." She took the datapad and left the office, letting her feet find their own way through the Neema's corridors. _This will be a good thing_, she thought encouragingly. _This will help me to...to move on._ Rounding the corner, she spied the curtain hanging down to block a doorway, its red surface inlaid with the patterns of clan Reegar. Stepping forward, she knocked on the side of the doorframe.

"Come on in," a masculine voice called from within. She obliged, and saw a broad-shouldered male quarian sitting in the only chair in the living space. A disasembled assault rifle lay strewn in pieces on the table in front of him, and he was carefully cleaning the barrel with an old rag. Upon seeing her enter, he placed the barrel on the table and stood, wiping his hands on the rag, and approached her. A few feet away he stopped and stood in a military stance, hands clasped behind his back. She spoke first.

"My name is Tali'Zorah vas Neema, and I've been assigned by Admiral Han'Gerrel to be your tech expert for the operations team you've been working with him to put together." At hearing her words, he relaxed, assuming a normal stance and outstretching a hand.

"My name's Kal'Reegar, Squad Leader with the Migrant Fleet Marines."

_She stands up from behind the shoddy crate she'd been using as cover. How the hell it was supposed to protect her from anything is a thought that enters her mind, one she'll come back to in the years following and wonder about again. She turns to her rescuers, a human, a turian, and a krogan, of all things. Keelah they're huge in real life._

_"Are you alright?" the human asks as he approaches her, lowering his rifle._

_"Yes, I can take care of myself!" She responds, and instantly feels shame at her rudeness. "Not that I don't appreciate the help! Who...who are you, anyway?" He extends a hand to her._

_"My name's Shepard, Commander with the Systems Alliance."_

"Um...ma'am?" Reegar's gentle words prodded her out of her memories with a start. His hand still hung in the empty space between them, outstretched, and she clasped it with her own.

"Sorry, good to meet you, Sh- ah, Kal." Even through his visor, Tali saw the confusion in his face, the possible worry about his soon-to-be tech expert. "Sorry, it's been a really long day." He seemed to accept that, letting loose a small laugh and gripping her hand in return before letting go. Returning to his chair, Reegar sat again and began cleaning the barrel of his rifle as he spoke.

"Well we were just waiting for Admiral Gerrel to find us a tech expert, so I imagine we'll be getting started soon. First couple missions will be simple recon, habitable world information gathering, patrolling systems for geth activity, but after that I think our team will get some of the best missions available. Your reputation preceeds you, Tali'Zorah. With a tech expert like you on our side, I don't think any of our enemies stand a chance. She nodded emphatically at his assertion.

"I won't let you down, Kal."

_Shepard stands in the elevator on Peak 15 and presses the button to descend. He swallows, hard, and she hears it even without the aid of her audio enhancement sensors. She looks behind his back to Garrus, who seems so focused on inspecting his Mantis that he is oblivious to all else. She looks back to John, he stares determinedly forward, but he's sweating like she's never seen him sweat before. She clears her throat softly, working up the courage to speak._

_"Um...Shepard? Is...is everything alright? You just look a little...well a little nervous to be honest." He turns to her after hearing her words, the thin veneer of confidence in his response doing little to hide the fact that she is completely right._

_"Oh, noticed that did you? Well its just...um..." he glances back at Garrus, but the turian is nodding his head to some unheard beat in his helmet as he continues to calibrate the rifle on the fly. Shepard leans in close to her helmet to whisper. Her heart races._

_"I'm...I'm pretty terrified of bugs." He finishes wincing, clearly worried about her opinion of him after his admission._

_She tries to keep calm, keep it in check, but fails and eventually begins spurting laughter._

_"HAhahahaha! Oh...oh Keelah...Shepard I'm sorry, I don't mean to...to..." A new wave of laughter consumes her as the look on his face turns from slightly offended to overtly entertained at the young quarian girl beside him crippled with laughter. She finally reigns it in, speaking at last."_

_"Well, Garrus and I have your back, we won't let the big bad bugs get you, John." She is instantly mortified. She's used his first name, a practice she only does in her head. Her hand flies to cover her vocal emitter, as if she can somehow steal the words back before they reach his ears. He turns to face her fully._

_"John? Hmm," his eyes wander away in thought. "I can't remember the last time someone used my first name with me. It sounds nice coming from you," he smiles as he finishes, and she tilts her head in the way he has come to realize means a smile from her in return. What he doesn't see is the consuming blush that has flushed in her cheeks. "So you've got my back here? I left the bug spray on the Normandy." She cocks her shotgun with an audible _click_._

_"I won't let you down, Shepard."_

She snapped back to reality. Luckily Kal had not asked her a question, and still sat cleaning his weapon.

"I'd...I'd better go get some rest. Just send me a message on my omni-tool when you're ready to go and I'll meet you wherever, Squad Leader."

"Oh _Keelah_, ma'am. It's just Kal or Reegar to the people on my team. Promise me you won't use my title again." She laughed and nodded.

"Ok, Kal. I won't use your title if you'll just call me Tali."

"I'll work on that...ma'am."


	11. With the Fires of Heaven

***Author's Note***  
As promised, a Garrus chapter! I had fun writing this, and wanted  
to make sure I gave his entire team a spotlight in _The Darkest Night_,  
so that when I start re-telling ME2, it means more to his character.

Also, a disclaimer, there is a bit of religious stuff at the end of the  
chapter. Not my personal beliefs but I wanted to see how making the  
connection would go given Garrus' superhero name in ME2. Hope I  
don't offend anyone, not trying to push beliefs, just thought it would  
be a nice thematic touch.

Enjoy! And thanks for all the reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 11 - With the Fires of Heaven**

Garrus smiled. Sometimes he just couldn't help himself. The vorcha's head had just evaporated, and he was loving this new rifle more and more with every hit. Three vorcha remained, all bunkered down behind cover, but Garrus had all the time in the world. The two frightened salarians standing in the middle of the battlefield, however, were in a bit more trouble.

"Come on, move your asses! Up here!" Garrus yelled to them over the balcony. He'd given away his sniping spot, but the vorcha were already retreating. Sadistically, he stood to full height and scoped one down as he ran, his back to Garrus. Squeezing the trigger, he heard the always-satisfying _thud_ of the rifle as the target's body dropped twitching. He put another round in it for good measure.

The salarians, who until now had been running for the narrow flight of stairs leading up to his perch, arrived at the top just as Garrus folded away his rifle. He left his helmet on, no need for anyone to know what he looked like.

"Th-thank you so much! I thought those vorcha had us for sure!" The first salarian spoke while the other just gulped breaths of oxygen and nodded his assent.

"No problem. Why were they after you?"

"It's my brother. Oh goodness I'm sorry, I never introduced us. My name is Sensat, this is my brother Mierin. The Blood Pack had taken him captive for a debt we had failed to repay. I rescued him. Or at least tried to. It would have all ended here if not for you, mister...ah..." Garrus shook his head silently. No names. The salarian nodded quickly, they were a people known for their secret-keeping, and he understood immediately the lack of a name. "Right. Well, thank you anyway, stranger. Not sure firing at the Blood Pack is a great idea for one's health, but you'll find no complaints from us." He fidgeted nervously, and Garrus turned to leave.

"W-wait!" The call stopped Garrus in his tracks, and he turned over his shoulder to regard the salarian once more. He had his hands at his waist, fingers intertwining with nervousness. With a start, Garrus recognized the gesture. He hadn't seen anyone in the galaxy but Tali do that...and here on Omega of all places...He smiled under his helmet, hoping she was safe and asking the spirits to watch over her. He'd send her a message when he got back to base. Lost in memories of Tali and Shepard, he completely missed what the salarian had said to him.

"What did you say?" His response must have been a bit more abrasive than he intended, as the salarian took a step back.

"I...I was just saying we haven't seen you around here before. Are..are you new to Omega?" Garrus nodded in response, and the salarian seemed to regain courage, taking back the step he had lost as he continued. "I thought so! Listen, I don't know what kind of operation you're running here, but it just saved our lives, and angered the Blood Pack as a bonus! Let us...let us help you." Garrus stared at the salarian and his brother, both standing close together. He hadn't thought about this before.

Coming to Omega and shooting mercs until they named the new mountain formed by the bodies after him had seemed like a fantastic plan, and so far he was definitely enjoying himself. But he hadn't been abe to find any main operations that the gangs had been running, much less hit them as targets of opportunity. The salarian, taking his silence for consideration, continued.

"My brother and I, we're well-used information dealers here on Omega. We can get you any intel you need! Just give us a terminal and we can have a neverending list of targets for you, guaranteed!" Mierin stepped forward, past his brother.

"Please, if we stay out here on our own, after what Sensat has done, they'll come back for us. You've saved both our lives, let us help you save others." Garrus waited, feeling he had more to say. "T-Too many of these gangster bastards get away completely free because no one will stand up to them, no one will even **try**. Words won't fix Omega, only bullets will." Garrus started.

_They stand at the bridge of the MSV Fedele, the door before them closed and locked. Shepard checks his pistol, wiping off some of the residue from the twisted test subjects they'd just waded through to get here. Tali stands in front of the door, hacking through its defense grid like she herself designed it._

_Garrus is pacing frantically._

_"Come on, Tali!" She stops to turn and glare at him._

_"Would __**you**__ like to hack this door, Garrus?" He lowers his eyes and stops pacing. "I thought not." Her eyes slide to Shepard, he nods calmly and the gesture seems to relax her. She turns back to the door and continues. Shepard crosses to him, placing a hand on his shoulder._

_"It's alright, Garrus. He's trapped in there, no escape pod, and you know Tali would have shut it down immediately if there were one. She's the best there is." Her hands hiccup at the praise, but she recovers and continues. Garrus nods._

_"I know it's just...this bastard deserves to pay. He got away completely free because C-Sec wasn't willing to risk the lives of a few mutated zealots of his, because they weren't able to make the tough call." Shepard smiles at him._

_"Well that's what we're here for, right?" Garrus relaxes, smiling. Soon, he knows, Dr. Saleon will be dead for his crimes. Shepard continues gently. "Are you sure about killing him? Should we turn him over for a trial and sentencing?" Garrus shakes his head emphatically._

_"No, Shepard. Words aren't going to fix what Saleon's done. Words won't change the monster inside him."_

_"What will?"_

_"Only bullets."_

Garrus' consciousness slammed back into reality, and the salarians still stood there, waiting for his response. He walked towards them, activating his omni-tool, and they did the same. Wordlessly, he passed them the address to the compound, a remote location in the slums. Nodding, they download the data and marked it on their local map.

"It's not much," he began. "But it's home." Their smiles almost warmed his heart, but he turned away and continued onward. Later that night, as he sat on a couch on the second floor, his omni-tool beeped a proximity alert, and he brought his sniper rifle to bear down the walkway, the only entrance or exit. Along its surface walked Sensat, Mierin, and a third salarian. Garrus tensed. _Betrayal? This early on? _The thought exited his mind as quickly as it had entered, as he remembered a fight Shepard had had with Wrex.

_They stood in the cargo area, inches from each other's face, the human refusing to back down despite the centuries-old Battlemaster that stared him in the eye. Garrus slowly reached for his rifle...just in case._

_"I said no casualties to the colonists, Wrex!" Shepard was fuming, and Garrus had never seen the human this angry before. He had ordered the team to use the anti-Thorian grenades that the Baynhams had given them, but Wrex had shot anything that got close to him, colonist or creeper. Shepard was still in his combat armor, he'd come straight here after the mission. Wrex shrugged at the human's words._

_"I don't give a damn what kind of mind control they were under, it was me or them, and I'm certainly not dying for a piece of idealism." Shepard laughed in his face, a cold ruthless bark._

_"And you think we'd have let you die? We're your __**team**__, Wrex. I had a bead on every colonist that made a move against you." Now it was the krogan's turn to laugh._

_"Ha. Team. Yea right. We're a team up until your precious Alliance or the Council tells you no more aliens aboard your 'highly advanced starship.' Then me, the quarian, the asari, even the panicking turian over there holding his rifle like its his mother's leg, we're all done for."_

_"You think I haven't been told that already?" Wrex stepped back, unaware of the news._

_"What?"_

_"They already told me to clear out the aliens, or I'd be facing charges when this whole Saren hunt is over. And do you know what I told the Rear Admiral who gave me that order, Wrex?" The krogan said nothing, merely waited. "I told him that those aliens were my team, and that he could go to hell, because no one boards a Spectre's ship without his permission." He waited a moment for it to sink in. _

_Shepard moved forward, again placing his face inches from the krogan's. "I've __**got**__ your back, Wrex. So why the fuck don't you have mine?" The krogan looked away, and Shepard turned, walking towards the elevator. Garrus lowered his rifle slowly, the confrontation over._

_"Shepard," Wrex called. The Commander stopped and half-turned to him. "I'm sorry."_

_Garrus was floored. Did...did __**Wrex**__ of all people just...apologize? Shepard nodded._

_"What's done is done, Wrex. But you have to trust someone, eventually. None of us can win this fight alone." He turned and left._

Garrus lowered his rifle and made his way to the door. After confirming their identites, he opened it. Mierin came in first, nodding to him as he walked past, then Sensat. To his credit, the last salarian decided to wait outside until invited. Sensat turned to Garrus as he came in.

"I'm sorry about the unexpected addition, I wanted to message you but then remembered you only gave us the address, not any contact information. This is my cousin, Melanis. He's a medic...I thought maybe...that may come in handy with the work we're trying to accomplish here." Garrus nodded after a few seconds, ushering the third salarian in with a wave of his hand. Melanis entered hurriedly, and he closed and locked the door behind them.

_The more, the merrier,_ Garrus thought, chuckling to himself at one of Shepard's ridiculous human phrases.

* * *

Garrus sat on the roof of a building overlooking a residential alley of Omega. He'd fashioned some cover and been up here for hours, sipping occasionally on a bottle of expensive turian wine while he waited for his target. He knew he probably shouldn't be drinking, but the target was rumored to be alone, and his skill was such that he believed he could make such a close shot without missing.

Besides, it was a special day.

One year had passed since the destruction of the Normandy. A year ago today, Garrus had crammed into an escape pod with Liara, Engineer Adams, and half the med team, and been jettisoned away from the twisted, explosive corpse of their home. He had listened in horror and slammed his hand violently against the control console when Joker somberly stated that Shepard hadn't made it out. _Why couldn't that asshole have just abandoned ship like the rest?_

Remembering Shepard, Garrus held the bottle of wine aloft, closing his eyes and offering a silent prayer to the spirits for his soul. _He was the best damn fighter I've ever met, _Garrus thought remorsefully. He pulled up his omni-tool to send a message to Tali, but thought better of it. This was a personal day, a quiet day. As he closed the tool he heard a woman's scream from the alleyway below.

Looking over the edge, Garrus sized up the situation. A hundred yards down, the alley intersected with a main street. A batarian in Blue Suns armor wrestled with a woman, while her son ran down the alleyway towards Garrus' post. _Child slavers,_ Garrus thought, growing more malicious by the second. The batarian got a good right hook in, knocking the woman aside, possibly unconscious, and tore off down the alleyway after the boy. Garrus brought his rifle to bear on the target. Just as the four-eyed bastard got his hands on the boy, Garrus squeezed the trigger, and his head exploded in a fine red mist. _No shields up. Cocky._

Compacting his rifle, Garrus descended and walked over to the boy to make sure he was alright. The small child looked up into the blackened visor of his helmet with what Garrus could only imagine was awe. Blood covered his shirt, spray from the sniper shot that had taken the batarian down, and Garrus knelt down to be on eye-level with the boy.

"Are you alright, kid?" The boy nodded emphatically and, without warning, threw himself at Garrus, his tiny arms coming nowhere close to making it around his armor, but trying nonetheless. His small body shook with tears, and Garrus awkwardly put his own arms around the boy, patting him on the back steadily. His heart broke, and he thought of Shepard. Of Mindoir. _Had Shepard seen all this a hundred times over, all at once?_ He thought incredulously to himself. Garrus wasn't sure he'd have been able to come out of that sane.

"Jonah? Jonah!" The boy's mother, apparently conscious again, rounded the corner and sprinted at Garrus full speed when she saw him holding her child. Seeing the batarian dead on the ground, she pulled up short as Garrus stood back up to regard her.

"You...?" It was all she could muster as she snatched her child up in a tight embrace, looking pleadingly into the visor of his savior. Garrus simply nodded, patting the sniper rifle collapsed on his back. "I...I've heard about you. The turian in blue who fires on Blood Pack, and apparently the Blue Suns as well," she said, looking down at the batarian. Garrus tilted his head to the side in confusion, she picked up on it. "News travels fast on Omega, especially through the slums. You've become a quick hero around here, stranger. And now you've become my family's personal hero as well." He held up a three-fingered hand in protest and shook his head slightly, but the boy ran back over to hug his leg and Garrus looked down, ruffling his hair with one hand. His mother smiled.

"Wait here, please, for just a moment," she begged, and not giving him the opportunity to refuse, ran into their home, emerging again a moment later with a small box. "Please, I want you to take this. Its just a trinket, but...it's fitting I think. The way you rained down fire from above, saving him...saving us both." Garrus delicately took the box and opened it. Inside was a small trinket, a carving of a human man, but with wings, holding a sword in his hand that appeared to be aflame. Garrus had never seen such imagery from humans, but guessed the piece had some spiritual value. He closed the box and nodded to the woman, who embraced him fiercely before thanking him again and leading her son back inside.

On the long walk back to the compound, Garrus went over the kill in his mind, as he did with every takedown, looking for any errors, anything he could correct on the next mission. Finding none, he thought again about the trinket she'd given him. He would have to ask Sensat about it when he got back. Thinking of the salarian made Garrus recall the past few months. He had turned into a regular John Shepard, recruiting all different kinds of people. First were the three salarian brothers, then an entire human mercenary unit the Blue Suns paid to find and kill him. They'd taken one look at his setup and offered to join. Monteague was their leader, a cunning assassin, deadly with a tactical cloak. He, Butler, Weaver, and "Ripper" had made their team a veritable killing force.

Garrus laughed to himself as he crossed the bridge to see the barricade being held open by Grundan Krul, the krogan, while Vortash, his batarian security expert, re-aligned the locking pins, and Erash, a turian explosives expert, installed a charge inside the door to prevent any hacking attempts. _Look at this damn collection of aliens,_ he thought to himself with a laugh. _Maybe I __**am**__ the next John Shepard._ They nodded to him as he slipped past their work.

Finding the salarian he was looking for just inside the base, Garrus took off his helmet, setting it and the small box on the table by his terminal. Sidonis, a fellow turian and sniper, but also his main requisitions agent, approached him with a datapad of recent acquisitions. Garrus took it with a nod of thanks and looked back down at the terminal and its salarian researcher.

"Sensat, any idea what this is?" He pushed the box towards the salarian, who drew a quick breath when he opened it.

"Yes! A human gave you this, correct?" Garrus nodded.

"How did you know?" Sensat was already flying through extranet pages filled with like images of the figurine.

"It's a mythical human figure, an iconic person in many different religions. Ah, here we are! Commonly known as Michael, he is an angel, hence the inhuman wings. They are ah..." Sensat mused, trying to remember turian religion, "holy soldiers of the spirits, I guess a turian would consider them." Garrus nodded his understanding.

"What about the sword? It looks like its on fire." Sensat nodded emphatically.

"Correct. In every religion he is mentioned in, Michael is the leader of the armies of the heavens, his flaming sword is feared by any creature, mortal or otherwise. He protects the innocent, avenges the fallen righteously..." Sensat trailed off, lost in the data. Garrus chuckled, looking at the muscled figure clad only in a waistcloth.

"Sounds like a guy I would have a couple drinks with. So he's the commander of all these heavenly armies, he doesn't have a title or anything?"

"He certainly does, stranger," Sensat looked up at Garrus as he replied. "They call him the Archangel."


	12. Offers

***Author's Note***  
I was really tempted to keep going with Garrus  
after the last chapter, but an even spread of  
characters is important! I'm trying to keep a group  
timeline in order here, so after this chapter I believe  
I can safely state it is one year after the destruction of  
the Normandy. I believe all main characters have  
had their remembrance passage.

Looking to be about 30 chapters after all for this story,  
almost halfway through my planning file and we're almost  
to chapter 15. Hoping everyone is enjoying it so far, I really  
appreciate all the reviews and PM's! Hope everyone sticks with  
me into _For We Are Many_, I hope to be making lots of references  
to _The Darkest Night_ throughout the course of writing it.

* * *

**Chapter 12 - Offers**

_The bridge is disintegrating behind him. Turning hard to look over his shoulder, his collarbone slips out of place. Swearing violently, he sees the CIC being torn apart by a vicious yellow laser. He touches the emergency protocol button on the console, a shimmering blue barrier encapsulates the bridge. Turning back to the main console, he looks at the lifepod status: half of them have launched, the evacuation is still in progress. He needs to buy them more time._

_Taking the controls, a sinking feeling grows in his stomach. He hasn't had this feeling since flight academy, but he knows it all too well. He is completely out of control of this ship. Sweating, heart racing, he performs manual overrides and system command procedures, trying to take complete manual control of this ship. __**His**__ ship. He was instructed never to do this, that the slightest error in human calibration could snap a wing or blow a drive core, but it's all he has now._

_Gripping the manual control interface, he turns the ship hard to port, hearing the creaking of the bulkheads. The yellow laser, aimed directly for the life pod bay, now strikes the CIC again instead. Huge portions of the terminals and superstructure of the ship drift aimlessly out into space, and he lets loose a sigh of relief as the last of the escape pods clears on his terminal. He makes to stand, pain ripples throughout his body. Looking down, he sees a piece of his own terminal has been knocked loose in the blast, and wedged against his shins, breaking them instantly._

_He cannot stand. He cannot walk. He cannot move. He's going to die here. Accepting this death, easier than he thought possible, he engages his emergency oxygen mask and waits, continually trying to maneuver the ship, knowing it is a futile task. He hears the footfalls breaching the kinetic barrier just before he feels the hand on his shoulder._

_"Joker! We have to get out of here!" Shepard has come for him. He fights back tears._

_"Sh-Shepard? What the hell are you doing here? My legs are pinned, take the pod and get out of here!" His Commander refuses to listen, reaching down and grunting heavily as he shoves the terminal piece out of the way. Joker looks at his legs, they're nothing but torn cloth and bruises, and he can only imagine the number of fractures beneath the purple skin._

_Shepard grabs his waist, hoisting him over his shoulder and making for the bridge pod. Facing the opposite direction of his rescuer, he can see the yellow beam begin to form in the bow of the enemy ship, thousands of miles away._

_"Shepard! Hurry up!" The Commander's pace quickens, and the beam fires. Everything goes white as hot death impacts the bridge. When his eyes re-adjust, he feels zero-g take effect, and his body lightly bumps up against the wall of the escape pod. Shepard is back in the hallway, floating by the access panel. Their eyes lock. In an instant that seems an eternity, Shepard begs him to help, to throw him a line he knows is not in the pod, to use a biotic pull he knows Jeff cannot do. At last, he gives the slightest of nods, and reaches for the access panel._

"**Shepard, no!**"

Joker bolted awake, the words having escaped his mouth and dissipated into the soft, warm air of his apartment. Sweat rolled off of him in buckets, and he leaned forward on the edge of the couch, placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His breath came in ragged draws, his throat hoarse from sleeping with his mouth open. He rubbed at it aimlessly as he stood.

The darkness of his apartment was broken only by a small lamp in the corner, and the soft glow of the vid-screen in front of him. Turning to look around, he noticed another thing lighting the place as he looked back towards the couch, a pair of glowing white eyes.

"Shit, Lia, I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you," he sat back down hurriedly. The pair of eyes behind her visor blinked a few times as she slowly rose from her sleeping position against the arm of the couch. Taking in her surroundings, she quickly realized where she was and stood up with a gasp.

"Oh, _Keelah_, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall asleep here!" It was all he could do not to laugh. He had woken her up and she was apologizing to him for falling asleep? He put on his best smile.

"It's alright, really, don't worry about it," he reassured her, but she didn't seem to hear him, moving towards the door.

"I..I have to go. I'm sorry, again, truly. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," she had reached the door and was heading for the access panel when he stepped over and placed a hand out to block hers. She turned to look him in the face, concern radiating out from her eyes.

"Lia, calm down, please," he said softly, and she let her hand fall. "I don't see what the problem is, I invited you over, we watched the vid-screen for awhile, we fell asleep. It happens," he smiled as he finished, and she slowly nodded. "Besides," he continued, "you spend more time here than at the shelter, you practically live here already," she took a step back.

"I do not! Why would you imply such a thing?" Confusion painted his face, and she reached past his hand for the panel, tapping it and walking out as the door opened.

"Lia, wait! What...what's the matter?" He called after her but she just shook her head and increased her pace, almost jogging by the time she reached the lift. As its doors closed, he shook his head in disbelief and walked back inside. _What did I say?_

She hadn't been upset until he mentioned that she practically lived here. Shrugging, he pulled up his omni-tool, and opened an extranet search entering "quarians sharing living space" into its field. Tapping search, his eyes widened as they ran over the first few results.

"Ohhhhh, shit."

* * *

Wrex stood on a stone outcropping just past the edges of the Clan Urdnot hold. All missions for today had been halted, no missile testing or ground travel operations, Wrex wanted the sky clear of the Tuchankan dust tonight. He stepped out of the shadow of the outcropping, into the pale light of the evening, and looked skyward.

Without the standard haze of dust floating, Wrex could see the stars. They spread across the sky in every direction he could see, but tonight he only looked in one direction. He knew he couldn't see it from here, hell it was halfway across the galaxy, but he knew the vector in which he gazed held Alchera, and the wreckage of the Normandy, one year dead today. Staring into the black, he held his cup of ryncol high, straining against the pain in his arm as the deep gash from his Challenge still tried desperately to heal.

"You made this possible, Shepard. Wherever you are, I hope there are good enemies to fight." Tipping back the cup, he emptied it in one gulp. Staring back into the black, he could almost hear his friend's voice again.

_"Hey, was wondering if you'd be coming to see me," Shepard says, looking up from the datapad on his desk._

_"You know why I'm here, Shepard," he replies._

_"I have an idea. I know it's just so comfy down in the cargo bay that you hate to leave, but I imagine __**that **__has something to do with the surprise visit?" He gestures to the crate by the door, Wrex had walked right past it coming into Shepard's quarters. He kneels down, opening the lid, and sees exactly what he's looking for. His family's armor. The odds of ever seeing it again were so low, and yet he had promised his grandfather he would reclaim it anyway. He shakes his head in disbelief._

_"Two hundred years I've been looking for this, and a couple months after teaming up with you, here it is," he stands as he speaks, turning back to the human he has come to respect. "You really do have a way of achieving the impossible." Shepard walks over and places a hand on his shoulder._

_"I was part of a team, Wrex. No one does the impossible alone." He nods, he understands the human's words more and more every day._

_"I don't expect you to let it go for nothing, Shepard. Name your price," he steels himself for negotiations, hoping not to have to give him the plate off his skull. Shepard laughs, disbelief apparent on his face._

_"If that's true," Shepard begins, "then you really don't know me at all." He slides the box towards Wrex with his foot as he speaks. "It's your family's armor, Wrex. How can I sell you something you already own?" His eyes shoot up, from the crate to Shepard's face. No, this isn't happening._

_"You mean to tell me you're just going to __**give**__ it to me? Just like that?"_

_Shepard's only response is a single nod. Wrex leans down and takes the crate in his arms, turning to leave. Without looking back, without turning his head, he speaks softly._

_"I will never forget this, Shepard. Never."_

Memory escaped him at last, and he saw only the stars and the black of space in the sky above him. Lowering his eyes, he stepped back into the Clan hold, and was immediately met by his head scout.

"Clan Chief, do we have the clearance to continue weapons testing?" Wrex nodded.

"Go ahead, and send the message to the head ground team leader, remote operations may now resume as well." The scout nodded and left. Wrex looked over his Clan hold, at the dozens of krogan milling about, ready to kill at his command.

"_No one does the impossible alone,_" he mumbled to himself. "No, I suppose not, Shepard." Approaching his stone seat, he called for his ambassadors.

"Send messages to Clans Gatatog, Weyrlock, and Nakmor. Tell them Clan Urdnot wishes to form alliances."

* * *

Lia'Vael nar Ulnay knelt behind an engineering access panel in the human embassy on the Presidium. Her six fingers flew through the cabling, looking for any fault in the lines that would cause the intermittent outage Councilor Anderson had talked about in the maintenance report. Although his had been the seventh on her list of places to go today, she had arrived here first. The Councilor had always been polite and helpful towards her, and she had heard he had been the same way towards Tali'Zorah vas Neema when she was here on her Pilgrimage one year ago. He had been the only human to show her a modicum of decency since she'd stepped onto the Citadel. Well, outside of Jeff.

She shook her head to clear the image of him from her mind. He had been so rude to her this morning, acting as though her staying in his quarters was something trivial, even suggesting that she practically lived there already? Any quarian male would be disgraced to have said such brash things to a girl he'd just met. What was his problem?

Tossing the cables back a bit more forcefully than she had intended, she breathed deeply through her air filters and sat back on her heels. Maybe it was good that she was staying away from him. Something was happening between them, and she wasn't quite sure what, but a budding relationship was the **last** thing she needed while trying to finish her Pilgrimage. Picking up the cables again, she started checking their integrity while she thought.

_Besides, __**me**__ with a __**human**__? I'm sure that would go over wonderf-_ she wasn't able to finish the thought. The cables fell out of her hands with a soft _thump_ as they hit the floor of the engineering closet. Of course. It was right in front of her visor the whole time, how could she not have realized it? Jeff wasn't a quarian. Phrases and words meant different things to the two of them.

She pulled up her omni-tool and ran an extranet search for "humans sharing living space," and the results were eye-opening. Humans not only shared living spaces with each other, but occasionally with members of the opposite sex, in a completely platonic fashion. She blushed furiously under her helmet, embarrassed at her actions this morning. She would go see him tonight, apologize for what happened, and try to remember their different cultures in the future. She just hoped he would still want to talk to her after this morning...

With a soft sigh at the damage she may have inflicted, she reached blindly outside of the closet to grab her integrity scanner. Not feeling it, she leaned further out unconsciously, still running over the cables in her hand and looking at them. Still not reaching the tool she needed, she turned to look out the panel and find it, instead seeing only a pair of black boots. Startled, she quickly ducked out of the closet and stood, ready to defend herself against any accusations. Her indignation faltered, however, when in standing she came face to face with Jeff.

"Lia, hi," he began, his voice unsure. "Listen, I know I'm not supposed to bother you at work, and I thought really hard about whether or not to even come here, but I needed to talk to you." She tried to speak but he held up a hand to stop her. "Please, if you interrupt me I might not be able to finish. I just wanted to say I'm sorry, and I'm not usually the apologizing type. I totally forgot how different our cultures are because, well, to be perfectly honest you're the first real friend I've had in a long time, and things are usually so normal around you that I didn't think to check what I was saying."

"No, it's alright," she stepped in quickly before he could continue. "I made the same mistake, and after a bit of extranet searching I feel...completely ridiculous about what happened this morning. Can we," she tried to remember the phrases she'd heard him use before, "just forget it ever happened?" Her use of a human idiom brought a smile to his face, and he nodded.

"Definitely, I'd like that I think. But there is one thing I wanted to say to you, and I hope it doesn't upset you." She tilted her head to the side and steeled herself. He took a deep breath before spilling the next few sentences out in a rush. "If you really want to stay at the turian shelter and live there that's fine, I don't want to imply that it's not. But to be perfectly honest you **do** spend more time at the apartment than at the shelter, and it **is** way too big for one person. I mean I don't mind that Anderson's helping me out here, but the guy went way overboard. So if you wanted someplace to stay that's not...you know...a shelter...I'd be happy to share the place with you. I mean...I only use like two rooms and..." he trailed off, nervous and unable to read her reaction.

Underneath her helmet, she smiled. Her parents would be bewildered if they'd heard this conversation, and she gave a small laugh thinking about them. But Jeff was her friend, possibly her only friend on the Citadel. And the way he spoke, Lia thought it was probably true in reverse as well. She nodded while answering.

"Alright, it's a deal. _Keelah_ but the arm of your couch is more comfortable than any bed in that shelter anyway." He laughed, visibly relaxing.

"Okay, great. Well I'm going to go then, but I'll see you later?" she nodded and he turned to go. Reaching down, she picked up the integrity scanner and ducked back into the engineering closet. Damage controlled. Friendship saved. She laughed softly, he had been so nervous to come talk to her, but everything turned out alright. They'd share the apartment as friends, just two very good friends.

She noticed subconsciously that the smile on her face simply would **not** fade away.

* * *

Joker stepped out of the embassy with a stretch and a heavy sigh of relief. That had gone **way** better than he had hoped, and he'd be much more careful in the future to watch his tongue. The very thought made him laugh to himself. Jeff "Joker" Moreau. Watch his tongue. He shook his head as he descended the steps. As soon as his foot touched the floor of the Presidium, his omni-tool beeped, and he checked his messages. Opening the only new one, he scanned its contents. There were no To or From fields, only a single message in a window on his screen.

_Mr. Moreau, please report to the address listed below at your earliest convenience. We have an offer to put you back at the helm of a starship, should you be so inclined._

Below the message was an address. He recognized it as one of the hundreds of bland corporate buildings that operated on the Citadel. After a moment's consideration, he decided to check it out. His afternoon was open, and if the offer were true...No. He shook his head as he walked. It wouldn't be true, but it was worth checking out until Lia got off work. He arrived at the address a few minutes later and read the electronic sign above the office:

_Cord-Hislop Aerospace, Citadel Offices_

Checking the address again, Joker confirmed he was at the right place, and stepped inside with a shrug. Whatever information they had for him, he was sure to be underwhelmed.


	13. Priceless

***Author's Note***  
This is a bit of a "cleanup" chapter, tying up some of the straggling  
stories I've been working with. I mostly like it, though again I feel  
like I struggle writing Liara. TIM went better this time in my opinion,  
let me know what you think. I think next up will be either a Tali chapter  
or a Shepard coma-induced flashback chapter. Haven't decided yet.

Again, thanks for all the reviews, I crave attention like a six year old. =P

* * *

**Chapter 13 - Priceless**

Kaidan stifled a groan as his shuttle touched down on the landing pad at Horizon. As soon as his ship had been visible in the sky, and its logo understood, people's reactions had begun. Some walked towards the landing pad incredulously, others simply turned and walked briskly to the nearest building to hide in.

_This isn't right,_ he thought to himself as the shuttle continued its landing procedures. _People shouldn't be afraid of the Alliance, especially not when these colonies are disappearing._ But maybe they didn't know that. Maybe they were unaware of what had been happening out here in the Terminus. Somehow, Kaidan didn't think so. In his experience, more often than not, colonists would rather forgo any assistance, close their eyes, and hope nothing bad happened to them rather than be dependent on another entity for protection. _Yea, they felt the same way on Mindoir, and look what happened to __**them.**_

He shocked himself with his own thoughts, and regretted them instantly. Shepard had been on Mindoir, had survived watching his entire family and all of his friends be butchered trying to fight back. He had carried that pain for years, how dare Kaidan make light of it? Pressing his thumbs into his eyes, he whispered a request for forgiveness from wherever Shepard's spirit was now, and opened them again as the shuttle's side door opened.

Standing on the other side was a single woman, about Kaidan's height, with shoulder-length brown hair. Surprisingly, she wore a smile, and extended a hand to him as he exited the shuttle. He shook it graciously.

"Hello, Lillith Carson. Looks like I'm the welcoming wagon, mister..." she trailed off to let him fill in the blanks, her head tilting slightly to the side as she waited.

"Alenko. Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko," he responded, looking around at the impressive colony before letting his eyes settle back on Lillith. "Well I'm glad **someone** was here, got a little nervous when I saw a few running for buildings." She laughed and beckoned him to follow her down the stairs to the colony proper.

"It's nothing personal, Commander. People just have a hard time trusting the Alliance this far out. We came out here to push humanity's boundaries, and to get away from all the restrictions placed on founding new colonies in Alliance space." he nodded as he followed her through the colony, trying to ignore the appraising looks given him by the passerby.

"I get that sentiment, really I do. One of my...well one of my best friends was a colony kid. But wouldn't it be safer to have the Alliance close at hand, you know, for protection?" She laughed again, a charming sound Kaidan was beginning to think he might be able to get used to given the time.

"Protection from what, Commander?" He stopped and turned to her, placing an arm on her shoulder so she stopped and faced him as well, as she noticed his eyes widen with shock.

"You really don't know?" Her eyes began to widen as well as she contemplated what he knew that she didn't, shaking her head slowly in reply. Turning away from her, he touched his fingers to his earpiece, communicating with the _SSV Moscow_, in orbit above the planet. "This is Commander Alenko, planet-side. I need the components for the GARDIAN towers down here immediately."

"Commander...?" She moved to follow him as he started walking towards the main building in the colony.

"Come on inside, Lillith, there's a lot I need to get you up to speed on."

* * *

Liara sat in her office overlooking the Nos Astra Exchange trade floor below. The sun was beginning to set on Illium, a red-orange ball of fire in the sky outside. She had originally regretted selecting an office with a window to the sun, especially with its glare at this time of day, but over time she had come to appreciate it. It was a subtle, natural reminder that the day was over, it was time to head home.

_Home, _she shook her head slightly with the thought. _No, I lost home a year ago._

She had spent the one-year anniversary of the Normandy in her apartment, still unpacking things and feeling somber. Then the message had come to her omni-tool. Benezia's assets had all been transferred to her daughter, a tidy sum of credits among them. Remembering the few Prothean relics she had on loan to museums back on Thessia, gifts from her adventures with Shepard, she called in a few favors and paid the exorbitant amounts of money to have them delivered to her here on Illium, Now they stood at the corners and focal points of her apartment, the handful of reminders of her old family, her old home.

Sighing softly, she looked out across the trade floor. The fools below, buying and selling imaginary ownership in companies whose existence would make no difference if Cerberus couldn't deliver on their promise. Shaking her head again, she pondered for the hundredth time since contacting them the audacity of her actions. Trusting Cerberus, of all people, to bring Shepard back.

She hoped desperately that, just for once, they were good on their word.

Staring out the window, lost in her memories of the old crew and Shepard, she almost missed the slight chime on her omni-tool that indicated a transmission from Nyxeris, her assistant. Tapping its Accept button at the last second, she began.

"Sorry Nyxeris, I was distracted." Her assistant was ever-understanding.

"Not a problem, miss. I have a rather strange visitor for you."

"Oh? Well why not, I haven't even gathered my things together yet, send them in."

Her door slid open and an asari walked into her office. Her face was a mask of serenity, her red uniform tight-fitting but clearly designed for combat. Liara knew what she was the moment she entered, and stood hurriedly to come around the desk and stand before her.

"By the Goddess, a justicar, in **my** office! You honor me, warrior." The justicar's eyebrows rose at the reception, and she smiled as she spoke.

"Impressive that one so young knows of our order, I am flattered by your welcome, it is truly more than I deserve." Liara's eyes widened.

"Nonsense, justicar, please sit, tell me how I may help you." She nodded and took the seat across from Liara's desk, as Liara rounded it and pulled the blinds closed so as not to blind her guest.

"My name is Samara, and I am on a quest that has taken me the better part of three centuries thus far." Liara unconsciously leaned forward in her chair. Her mother had told her stories of the justicars, and she'd always been enthralled by their ways. Now the chance to help one..."I hunt an Ardat-Yakshi, and I know she is on Illium." Liara gasped. A _demon of the night winds_? Here?

"Well...that is...unsettling, justicar," she tried to fall back into cold professionalism as she pulled up her terminal and looked through any bit of gathered information she had. Although she'd only been on Illium a short while, Liara had already made a name for herself in the information broker game, and her files were growing more extensive by the hour. "Let me see..." Realization hit Liara like a truck as she continued to search.

"Um...if you don't mind me asking, jus-ah, Samara," she began hesitantly. Samara nodded, and she cleared her throat before continuing. "It's just that...I'm obviously quite young, and just about the newest information broker on Illium. Is there a reason you chose me to come to first?" Samara held a knowing smile.

"I had read of your achievements in the hunt for Saren Arterius. You have a passion, a desire for justice and punishment of the wicked that I find...refreshing among the asari of this age. You were...inspiring to read about. I had to meet you." Liara allowed a small laugh to pass her lips.

"A justicar, excited to meet **me**?" She smiled at Samara as she pulled up the files. Nothing. "Sorry, Samara, I don't have any leads yet, but if you're planning to stay on Illium, I'll keep you updated if I get anything." Samara nodded, standing.

"I would be appreciative. How much do you charge?" Liara's eyes widened in shock.

"Nothing!" Samara tilted her head to the side, a quizzical look on her face. "I..I mean normally yes, there's a fee, but for a justicar? I could never forgive myself for charging. Any information I have that helps you is free, of course." Samara bowed her head to her.

"I have dishonored you by asking a price. I apologize, but you must understand...you are quite different than most. You continue to prove that to me. In fact..." she trailed off for a moment, considering Liara with an appraising eye, "you even remind me of myself, a long time ago." With a small nod of her head, Samara turned and left. As soon as the door closed, Liara leaned back in her chair and exhaled a heavy sigh of relief. A justicar, in her office. And her, acting like a moonstruck child...

Shepard would have died laughing.

* * *

Joker sat in the chair bewildered, looking at the three small screens in front of him. He opened and shut his mouth several times in disbelief, and the figure sat patiently waiting for his response.

"So...let me just get this straight." The figure nodded, welcoming his questions. "You're signing on Chakwas, **re-building** the entire Normandy, and **resurrecting** Shepard?"

"Correct on all accounts, Mr. Moreau."

"Okay, and just to make perfectly clear, those two huge guys outside the door are **not** about to kick my ass for helping Shepard shut down all those Cerberus ops?"

"Also correct."

Joker leaned back, exhaling heavily. Leaning forward again, he put his head in his hands, pressing his thumbs against his eyes. He remembered the look Shepard had had on his face as he had shoved him into the escape pod. _Help me,_ it had screamed, _I'm not ready to die_. Nodding slowly, Joker steeled himself. He **would** help Shepard, in the only way he could right now.

"Alright," he said boldly to the figure on the screen, "I'm in." The figure smiled.

"Thank you, Mr. Moreau. You'll receive an extranet message in three days' time instructing you further." The screen winked out, and Joker stood to leave. The walk back to his apartment was agonizing. Shepard was..._alive_. Or would be. The Normandy would be back. Everything that he had lost would be regained. Still, worry gripped his heart like a krogan fist, and despite how happy he tried to be over the outcome of the "meeting," one thought kept souring the feeling.

_How the __**fuck**__ am I going to tell Lia?_

* * *

Dr. Carol Chakwas stood over the gurney holding the only patient in her ward. A younger man, probably in his early thirties, lay unconscious on the table beneath her. Running over his medical charts, however, she couldn't see **why** he was unconscious. His ship had gone down over one of the more colonized areas of Mars, and while no significant damage was done, he'd had to be dragged from the ship and brought here to her.

She'd been the only doctor on call, not unusual these days, and had seen to his treatment right away. If anything it gave her a reason to get up from her terminal. Her mysterious relay chat stalker had continued sending her messages, always late at night, and always right after the last colleague had left her alone. She was beginning to wonder how they knew, but if her instincts were right, Cerberus had a way of knowing anything.

Staring down at the patient's chart for a few moments, she began to instead stare through it, thinking about her last encounter with the person on the other end of that chat log. They had requested her presence on the Citadel, but when her leave time request had been denied, they had told her they would send a representative to her instead. That had been a week ago, and still no one had shown. Turning back to the table, she dropped the datapad onto it with a sigh. After all their chats, she had almost looked forward to a representative showing up. Not that she cared for Cerberus in the slightest, but the veiled hints they gave her indicated that at the very least they could let her work with Jeff again. If so...she shook her head. Debating **that** course of action had been her preoccupation for the last week, and any more thought about it might break her head open right now.

As she sat down to review her terminal's patient information again, she heard a soft groaning behind her. Standing immediately, she walked briskly over to the gurney, placing a hand on the chest of her patient, who was trying very slowly to get up.

"Easy, calm down. You've had a head injury, but you're in a med bay, everything is alright." His eyes opened and fluttered a bit, taking in his surroundings and finally settling on her face.

"You Doctor Chakwas?" She started at his question, taking a step back.

"Yes, I am." He smiled almost drunkenly, and began to roll up his pant leg as he spoke.

"Whew, thank goodness. I really didn't want to go all over Mars looking for you. Looks like I lucked out on the first swing, yea?" A small laugh escaped him and she looked down to find a prosthetic leg, in which he was opening a small compartment. After a few choice words and some fumbling, he got it open and handed her the OSD inside it. As she reached for it, he quickly snatched it back, gaining her attention.

"**Only** play this in your omni-tool, okay? That's the only thing they made me swear to tell you. Something about Alliance decryption protocols or tracing or something, I dunno. Whatever the reason, only in your personal omni-tool." She nodded, and he handed it to her. She took the OSD with trembling fingers, this whole situation just too much to take in all at once. As she contemplated the small disk, he closed the panel on his prosthetic leg and hopped up off her table. She reached out a hand as he walked away, for once in her life, she was at a loss for words.

"You...wait..." he laughed as he called back over his shoulder, pointing to his own head.

"Self-inflicted, doc. I'll be fine." The door made a soft _hiss_ as he walked out. Looking around furtively, she crossed to the door and locked its access panels, then returned to her office chair. Activating her omni-tool, she scanned the OSD and a video began to play above her wrist.

A well-dressed man with close-cropped brown hair, graying at his temples, sat before her, his fingers steepled and legs crossed. He just..._felt_...dangerous, and her nerves tensed just looking at him. His voice was silken, but deadly. Unconsciously, she thought he rather reminded her of a snake.

"Doctor Carol Chakwas," the man began, "I regret the Alliance's stubbornness in keeping you quarantined to that rock for believing the truth about what threatens humanity, but I'm sure this OSD will be able to make any point we would have been able to on the Citadel, just as clearly. I don't normally contract candidates personally, but for you and the other prospective addition to our team, I felt a more personal touch may be beneficial." He reached to his left, tapping the arm of his chair, and three smaller vid-screens appeared in the bottom part of her own screen.

"I won't deceive you or attempt to dodge your suspicions. I am the Illusive Man, leader of Cerberus," she recoiled from her omni-tool. She had expected her stalkers to be Cerberus, but the Illusive Man himself contacting her? She shook her head vigorously, reaching for the terminate button. Almost as if knowing, the recording proceeded. "Please wait, doctor. I know given our organization's..._history_...with Commander Shepard, you're probably inclined to walk away. If so, I admire your dedication to the late Commander. However, I'd like you to at least review the data I have to offer you, I think you'll find it may...alleviate...many concerns you have with my organization." Her hand lingered at the terminate button, but eventually moved towards the first smaller screen, tapping it.

It expanded full-screen, showing Jeff sitting in a sterile white room, looking through a terminal of his own. His left hand covered his mouth in disbelief, while his right shook nervously of its own accord. The voice-over continued. "This OSD has access to three real-time relays of my current operations, doctor. Right now mister Moreau is in another of our offices, perusing the data you will soon be looking at. If you choose to join our team, you will be working in tandem with him, we are aware, as per the Lieutenant's reports on the original Normandy, that you are the most thorough doctor to ever treat his disability. We need him operating at peak efficiency, and only you can deliver that, doctor." Silently, she minimized the full-sized screen and tapped the second of three. It maximized, like the one before it, and showed a space dock, in a star cluster she didn't recognize.

In the middle of the screen sat a ship she was all too familiar with: the SSV Normandy. Its skeletal structure was being constantly attended to by the dozen or so technicians welding plates to her hull. Carol was sure this was not the original Normandy, it looked...longer, with a larger cargo bay...possibly wider too, though Jeff would know better than she would. She did notice with a small spike of anger the black and gold Cerberus logo on the side of the vessel. Indignation raged in her and she almost terminated the message again, but curiosity got the better of her, and she minimized the second window to maximize the third.

Her blood ran cold at the sight. The voice took its opportunity.

"**This**, doctor, is what I needed you to see. This is the main operating room of Lazarus Station, the most important of my many research stations. Here, for the past thirteen months, my team of top scientists, geneticists, and reconstructive surgeons have been working together. We're bringing him back, doctor. Just as he was, no mind control chips, no behavioral modification, no brainwashing. As much as he believes we are enemies, Cerberus and the Alliance **are** on the same side in the fight against the Reapers." Her hand covered her mouth in the exact same way Joker's had. On the table lay a charred body, so many electrodes and tubes connecting to it that it barely resembled a human. But she knew. It was him.

"Of course, waking up to find your second-greatest enemy has dumped billions of credits and years of research into resurrecting you to fight your greatest enemy will undoubtedly be a mental burden on the Commander. I fully intend him not to trust me. That's why I need you, it's why I need Mr. Moreau. I need people on this ship that Shepard can trust implicitly, so that he can remain focused on the mission instead of spending his energy wondering when or if I'm going to stab him in the back." The third window minimized on its own, and the three windows at the bottom of her screen vanished, leaving only the man in the chair.

"I'm not threatening or coercing you, doctor. I'm simply asking. Cerberus, humanity, Commander Shepard, all need your help right now. If you accept, simply tender your resignation with the Alliance. My agents on the inside will see it and forward me notice of your agreement. Once you've arrived on the Citadel, we will pair you up with Mr. Moreau and take you to an undisclosed location, to get you settled in while the ship construction is complete and Commander Shepard is resuscitated." She sat back and stared at the recording for a long moment before muttering to herself.

"How do I know Jeff has even agreed? How can I trust this recording to have accurate information?"

"Mr. Moreau already has agreed, doctor," the video responded, as her eyes widened with shock.

"And no one ever said this was a recording."


	14. Blessed Day of Life

***Author's Note***  
Hell again! I actually felt bad for not updating yesterday but I believe  
I have been coming down with something. Many may balk at me  
apologizing for not updating on a daily basis, but I enjoy what I do,  
and if I were reading this story I'd be on the edge of my seat! =P

Shout out required to Calinstel, as this is the first of many chapters I  
will write that utilize his extremely well-crafted quarian culture and  
language. Also, special note for the fans, I'm aiming to have chapter 15  
up very soon after posting this, to make up for the day late. So enjoy this  
Shepard flashback!

* * *

**Chapter 14 – Blessed Day of Life  
**

The crew deck is quiet, John realizes with a stretch as he exits his personal quarters. He checks his chrono, middle of second shift. There should be a few people meandering about at the very least. A confused look crosses his brow, and he walks to the sleeping pods. All empty. Walking briskly, he takes the stairs to the CIC, which is also deserted. Shaking his head slowly in disbelief, he runs to the bridge. The controls are on autopilot, Joker is missing as well. Pulling up his omni-tool as he heads for the elevator, he opens the ship-wide communication channel.

"This is Commander Shepard, can anyone hear me? What's happened?" A long silence awaits him before a soft metallic voice replies.

"Shepard? Where are you?"

"Tali? I'm at the CIC, where the hell is everyone?" Her reply sounds strained.

"I uh…can't really move at the moment, if you could come to Engineering I'd be happy to explain." He's running for the elevator before she finishes her sentence, slamming the access button for the cargo bay and making a mental note that **whatever** the next ship he serves on is, it **will** have ladders. The elevator slides to a stop and the doors slowly open. Shepard steps forward into the darkened cargo hold, the silhouette of the Mako to his right, and pure darkness to his left. Moving left to circle around to Engineering, he is halted in his tracks as every light in the cargo bay ignites at once.

"SURPRISE!" He spins back towards the Mako, his entire crew is here, from his squadmates to the enlisted men and women. Everyone has piled down here in the cargo bay to stand behind a folding table that holds…a…cake? His eyes widen, and he checks his chrono again. April 11th. A heavy sigh escapes his lips and he allows himself to smile and relax, walking over towards them. The sea of people rushes forward to engulf him, with many claps on the back or shoulders, and utterances of "Happy Birthday, Commander" aplenty. He glances at Garrus as he reaches the table, the eye of the crewman hurricane.

"Nice touch with the cake," he begins, "how'd you know?" His turian friend's mandibles open wide in what he can only imagine is a grin.

"Nah Shepard, you've got the wrong alien this time," he smiles as he finishes, and for an instant his gaze flickers past Shepard's left shoulder, then back to his friend's eyes. Turning slowly to follow the turian's gaze, he looks over the heads of the crowd and sees her, standing alone, back where the corner of the elevator meets the hallway to Engineering. She leans against the elevator, hands folded together at her waist, and gives him a small wave when she notices him looking at her. Turning back to Garrus, he claps his friend on the shoulder with a smile and leaves, walking towards her.

She visibly stiffens as she realizes the direction he's walking, standing up straight to regard him. Her fingers begin the delicate process of intertwining with each other in front of her stomach, and her head tilts in response to the warm smile he gives her when he approaches. He stops short of her and shakes his head slowly, mouth working to find the words to say. She beats him to the punch.

"_Aakel eist'galla_, Shepard," she says softly, the un-translated meaning of her words hidden to him. He can guess what they mean, but her wishing it to him in her own language is something he knows will mean more to him than any "happy birthday" he hears today. He wonders if now is the time, after all, it **is** his birthday, isn't one supposed to get what they want on that one day? His hand goes to his neck, rubbing the back of it aimlessly as he continues to look at her. It's always been so difficult to keep his eyes from staying on hers. The silence lasts a moment too long, he's blundered again, and now she's nervous.

"It…um…it means "blessed day of life" in my people's language. Th-though it's more a statement of honor…ah…like a reflection on the decisions you've made, that have made you who you are, and what your future may hold," she looked down as she finished. _She's embarrassed. She thinks her people's ways aren't welcome here. Where __**have**__ they been welcome since she embarked on her Pilgrimage?_ He reaches out and places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He will do this many times in the years to come, but right here, right now, it's so new, so unexpected, that her face shoots back up to meet him. He's waiting for her, locking his eyes with hers and speaking just as softly.

"I think that's beautiful," he begins, squeezing her shoulder slightly as he speaks. "It gives so much more meaning to the day than empty wishes and the extra weight that cake is bound to put on us all." He smiles, and her head tilts. He loves it when her head tilts. She raises her three-fingered hand, places it on the elbow of the arm that continues to hold her, her eyes never leaving his. Yes, it's definitely time.

"Tali…" Words escape him. He's confused and quickly forgetting basic principles of the English language. She takes a half-step forward, expectantly. He's emboldened. "I know we've been fighting a lot of things the past few months, and I'm glad to have had you here with me the whole time, but to be honest nothing out there compares to what I've been fighting here, aboard my own ship." He takes his own-half step towards her, their bodies centimeters apart as neither of them dares to break eye contact. "Today…all this…I can't believe you did it for me." Her voice is barely a whisper as she responds.

"It wasn't easy, but it was worth it, I think." Her eyes suggest lifetimes full of possibilities, if he can just get it together, if he can just say what he's feeling. He opens his mouth to say it, but instead it's Joker's voice she hears.

"Commander," he says, walking over to them. He feels her hand fly off of his arm as if it were on fire, and she quickly but nonchalantly steps back out of his grasp. Joker notices neither of these things, his eyes intent on his omni-tool. "I've got an incoming transmission from Admiral Hackett, he says its urgent, wants you in the conference room ASAP." The pilot's eyes lift to find Shepard's, but they instead find the side of his head. He's still looking at her, wondering how nobody ever took the time to kick Murphy's ass for inventing his stupid "law." Her head tilts again. She knows what he wanted to say even if he doesn't fully, and her eyes promise a conversation later. She ducks away with a soft-spoken _"Commander," _and he follows Joker to the elevator.

Halfway up the lift, he hammers a punch into the side of the elevator. Joker jumps in surprise, but says nothing of it. That's probably for the best. He's frustrated, and just wishes he could stop life for **thirty seconds** to tell her how he feels. As the doors to the elevator open, he steps out and walks to the conference room, going over what his words will be this evening. He will not ruin this again. He only hopes this urgent message isn't another high-risk op this soon. The room's lighting fades and the vid-screen lights up, Hackett and Anderson are standing together. He salutes, and is told to stand at ease. Adopting a parade rest, he asks the reason for the call.

"As I said, Commander, it's a very urgent piece of news that just came to our attention," Hackett begins. Shepard nods, waiting for it. "Alliance personnel records have told us that today of all days is your birthday. Captain Anderson and I wanted to wish you well in person, and let you know we're assigning you and your entire crew a month's paid leave to recover from your actions at the Citadel."

He can hear his own teeth grinding in his skull. A **fucking** birthday wish? A leave notice? A defining moment in his life was interrupted for **this**? It takes all his concentration to remain composed, to remain the collected Commander Shepard the galaxy knows. He gives a sharp nod to the two men and addresses them calmly.

"Thank you, sirs. I'm sure the crew will be relieved to hear it." They smile and exchange goodbyes, and the vid-screen goes dark. He stands in the blackened room for a moment, silently seething, his fists clenching and relaxing of their own accord. Slowly he lets it go, lets the anger escape him, and walks out the door, back to the elevator. Its slow descent gives him plenty of time to think about what to do. Does he tell her? He's just been given a month's leave, and certainly within that time frame she'll want to go back home.

The thought stings him, but he knows that doesn't make it any less true. Much as he wants it to be, the Normandy isn't her home, the Flotilla is. Even with the way she had placed her hand on his arm…would it really be fair to her? To him? He heaves a sigh and looks over at the dent he's put in the side wall of the elevator with remorse. The elevator doors open. Back to the crowd, back to the madness. He announces their month of paid leave to a round of roared cheers, and also his plans to see any non-Alliance crew taken to wherever they need to go. His eyes purposefully avoid hers as he says this.

He wonders if she'll hate him for this, he certainly hates himself for it. But to his surprise she's there next to him when he finishes. She thanks him for all he's done for her, and for his promise to see her back home safely. She says these things cordially, but her eyes…he can almost feel the pain coming from them. Steeling himself, he tells her it was nothing, that he was honored to have served with her, and that he'll get them to the Flotilla as fast as possible. She thanks him, but turns away perhaps a bit too quickly, hurriedly walking back to Engineering. He feels his heart sink into his feet as he watches her walk away.

The Normandy dissolves around him, and he turns in a slow circle, watching it happen. The rest of the crew is oblivious, talking and laughing about their newly gained free time even as their conversation partners fade into nothingness. He closes his eyes, just as he has done every other time, and when he opens them, he is again floating in the familiar black void. He buries his hands in his face. He knows these re-lived memories aren't real, that they're a mixture of what actually happened and what could have happened. They're self-inflicted, and although they hurt him, he knows he needs them. He needs something to pull him through the madness of solitude.

And after having found out that he's coming back, after knowing that this black void is only his unconscious waiting room for the doctors piecing him back together, he swears to himself that this time he'll be ready.

* * *

**Aakel eist'galla:** Birthday blessing. Literal translation: Blessed day of life. Though close in translation, the actual meaning is not to honor the day a person is born, but to honor all the past days and reflect on what still lies in the future. The accomplishments and choices the person has made to reach this day as well as those made to continue onward. (Source: www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/6933885/19/To_Survive_Terminus)


	15. Acceptance

***Author's Note***  
This chapter was a little strange for me to write. Normally when I sit down to  
write a chapter, I take my few lines of notes from my planning file and just go  
with the flow. But sometimes when I finish, I feel like it didn't quite go the way  
I planned. Not sure if that's a bad or good thing, but I'll let you be the judge of  
that, dear reader.

I felt so bad for Tali after writing this chapter that I almost put down _The Darkest Night_  
and started writing Chapter 1 of _For We Are Many_, but I was able to restrain  
myself. I can only imagine how good it will feel to write that chapter. Hope everyone's  
still reading by that point! =P

Enjoy, and thanks for the reviews and adds! =)

* * *

**Chapter 15 – Acceptance**

Kal'Reegar vas Neema was often described by others as being a quarian of few words. Truth be told, he could speak quite fluently and unreservedly when he desired, but he just rarely found it necessary. "_Why break a rifle into fifty parts to clean it when you can clean all you need to by breaking it into three?_" his father had always said. Even so, there were a few words that Kal'Reegar simply **hated** saying, and this thought crossed his mind as he yelled them to his team.

"Geth patrol, watch your asses!" His team sprang into action, turning over rubble for cover and fanning out to protect their engineer while she hacked away at the ancient door panel behind them. They had found an old quarian outpost on this planet when they had scanned it before landing, and though they knew it could be dangerous, had decided to check it out. Kal was beginning to regret his curiosity. Before he could formulate and communicate a plan, the geth were upon them. Bullets zipped past his head whenever he came up from cover, but his team was well-trained, and able to keep them at bay. Beginning to feel a bit of confidence against the synthetic bastards, Kal's stomach lurched when he saw the two rocket drones approaching from the far side of the courtyard in which they fought.

"Tali! We're gonna need that door open **real** soon!"

* * *

Tali frantically worked at the panel, but the code structure was so ancient, almost to the point of incomprehension. She heard Kal's yell, and spared herself a moment to look. She'd fought enough geth to know rocket drones when she saw them, and her pace quickened. After a few tense moments, she got the doors open and Kal's team began falling back into the reinforced room. Tarel'Venn, one of Kal's best snipers, covered the others as they made for the door, only making for safety himself once everyone was seen to.

It happened in slow motion; Tarel was running towards them, Tali had her hand on the control panel, ready to shut it the moment he entered, and the bullet struck him. It hit the back of his knee, and Tarel fell forward, sliding on his chest towards the building and trailing a line of blood behind him as he screamed. In an instant, Tali re-assessed the fight. The rocket drones were dangerously close to attack range.

_Time slows, and she's no longer on a distant planet, in the ruins of her people. Instead, she's back on Noveria, in the hot labs at Peak 15. She can hear the klaxons blaring; she knows they only have seconds to get out. But one of them has fallen behind, and she'll be damned if she's leaving him to the rachni._

_She moves forward, feels a hand on her shoulder, shrugs it off. Why was Shepard trying to stop her? It doesn't matter, she presses forward, rushing out of the elevator and back out into the fray. She sees them instantly, only they're not rachni, they're geth._

_Geth? Were there geth in the hot labs…? Her mind pushes the thought away. That doesn't matter either. Kill them. All of them. A sadistic smile crosses her lips underneath her helmet, and she raises her pistol. She considers taking cover, and thinks better of it. If they close on me I'm dead anyway. Let them come. Standing tall, she fires her heavy pistol into the first geth, taking its head in one clean shot. Sweeping her weapon across the field, she finds new targets, eliminates them easily._

_Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small thought bubbles to the surface. Save Tarel. Who is Tarel? She glances around quickly, sees the injured quarian reaching out towards her. Looking back to the geth, she sees them for what they are, sees their battlefield for what it is. Reality coalesces in her mind, and a terrible fear sets in. What has she done? _

Grabbing Tarel's hand, she began to drag him back towards the shelter, staying low to avoid enemy fire. Backing slowly towards the building, she turned and threw all her weight into hurling Tarel's body into their haven. He slid across the floor, unconscious from the trauma before, and she turned back to face her attackers just in time to see the rocket explode two meters in front of her.

Feeling a sharp pull yanking her arm backwards, she winced in pain as her body was blown back, sliding across the rough stone into the building as the rest of the team swung into the doorway, dropping the two rocket drones and the remaining platforms she hadn't managed to kill. When the field was clear, they closed the door and locked it down. Kal was at her side in an instant. Ringing filled her head, and her vision was bordered in a soft white haze. She heard muffled voices from all around her, most tending to Tarel's wound.

"Tali! Tali, are you alright?" She nodded absently.

"I can't hear very well, but I feel alright outside of that," she replied. Certain that she was probably yelling to them instead of speaking as she heard it, she sat up and began to check her suit for ruptures. Slowly, her hearing returned, the ringing fading as the rest of the team tended to Tarel. Kal waited for her to finish, casting the occasional glance back at Tarel, and when she looked up at him, he nodded once, grabbing her upper arm and continuing to move, forcing her to stand and stumble along with his pace. Once out of earshot, he dropped her arm and rounded on her.

"What the **hell** was that, Tali'Zorah?" His eyes were narrow, and she felt genuine fear at her normally quiet and composed squad leader.

"I…I was trying to help Tarel…" she stuttered.

"Bullshit. Sit down, we're going to have this talk now rather than later, since we're waiting until we hear about Tarel before moving again anyway." Unsure what talk he meant, Tali sat as ordered, and he did the same, keeping his hold on her eyes. A small silence passed before he spoke.

"Why did you join my team, Tali'Zorah?" Confused, she replied.

"I have combat experience, and I wanted to help protect the Fl—" he cut her off.

"Yea, I know what you told Admiral Gerrel to get him to sign off on it, and frankly I'm surprised he allowed it. I wasn't born yesterday, ma'am. And that means the Admiral certainly wasn't."

"What are you saying, Kal?" Indignation turned her voice harsh, but he continued on.

"I'm saying," he started, leaning forward to emphasize his point, "that I saw the way you stood out there. You didn't take cover, you didn't even move to shield Tarel from fire. You just walked out there barrels hot, shooting as many geth as you could. So why don't you just say it and save us both the trouble?" Still confused, she tilted her head to the side.

"No?" He shook his head softly. "Alright then. I'll tell you a story and when I'm done, you tell me if you've figured it out yet." He shifted on his seat before continuing. "About three years ago I led a squad inside the Veil, the planet was right on the edge but still…beyond the Veil. We got surrounded, pinned down by ground forces, and though we had a chance to make it to our shuttle, we needed to keep the bastards' attention on our cover spot while we moved." He breathed deep.

"One of my men had seen his lifemate go down earlier in the fight, he was completely overtaken by _felz'elt_. I'd literally had to drag him to our cover spot and hold him down while he fought to get up and charge into the geth." Tali's hands unconsciously began to intertwine as she listened. "Halfway through me telling the squad what the evac plan was, he stops fighting me, goes completely still. I look down, and he's just staring up at me. I'll never forget his eyes…" Kal looked away, drifting off into memory, before shuddering slightly and looking at her again.

"He says 'Kal, I'll stay behind. I'll buy you the time you need.' What am I going to do, turn him down? I could only shake my head and thank him. My team and I fell back, circled around behind the geth and made it to the ship. And as we're loading up, I look back towards the cover spot, and there he is, standing tall, firing at every single geth he sees. I'm watching him take one hit, two, three, and he's not even flinching, just firing and screaming. He's taking out handfuls of them, they're dropping fast, but he knows he's not walking away. It's like…he doesn't **want** to walk away…" Kal's eyes closed and his head lowered as he finished.

Tali tried to recall how she had felt minutes before. She had stepped out into the fray without fear, without emotion. To be honest grabbing Tarel's hand had been an afterthought, a reflex action her brain had reminded her to perform. She hadn't even been aware of where she was, all she had wanted was to slaughter those geth, but why take that risk? Why step into harm's way like that? Kal seemed to read her thoughts.

"It reminds you of him, doesn't it?" His voice was soft, but serious. She raised her eyes to meet his, and he nodded slowly. "Throwing yourself into the fray, impossible odds, expecting to come out on top anyway, you could expect that when you were with Captain Shepard. The way you talk about him, the things I've heard about the nightmares you have…_Keelah,_ Tali'Zorah,I saw the same thing in that stunt you just pulled that I saw in the man I lost years ago…" He trailed off, looking at her with wariness in his eyes. This was the unspoken question he'd needed to ask her, whether or not she was going to be a liability, whether she'd joined his team just to die. She looked away, back towards the door. Had she?

"No," she whispered softly. "Shepard was a good friend, a great Captain, and…maybe something more. I definitely felt something for him, and he did for me as well, but…" She waited for the tears to come, but surprisingly they didn't. Sorrow still welled within her, but it was as if her body had given up its mourning of him. She turned back to Kal. "It's in the past now." He nodded carefully.

"Alright. I won't ask any more, it's not my place. But I don't take losses on my team lightly. None of us are out here to die, understood?" She nodded, and he returned the gesture before rising and walking back to the group. She opened her omni-tool and flipped through its files, coming to the picture of the three of them fighting in the CIC. Looking at the happiness on his face, the pain in her chest welled, and she felt pure shame as she hovered her finger over the Delete key. Snatching it back after a few seconds, she closed the device, and checked her weapons, rejoining the team. Tarel was coming to, and he sought her out immediately as soon as his eyes opened.

"Tali'Zorah…you…thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. She kneeled down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't mention it. None of us are out here to die, Tarel'Venn." Over her shoulder, she could almost hear Kal smiling. The medic nodded to Kal as he spoke.

"He's going to be alright, the bullet tore apart his knee, and he'll need more extensive surgery back home, but I've stopped the bleeding, and the only infection he should see is a minor exposure one from…you know…being flung across the ground like a certain _bosh_'_tet_ that tried to steal your rifle, sir." Laughs erupted from the team, Tarel included, and Kal shook his head.

"That happened **one time**, let it go!" A new round of laughter from his team greeted his comment, and he laughed himself before issuing orders. "Alright then, let's get him up and get to the shuttle, looks like the geth have cleaned out anything of value here anyway." He team moved to comply, and he gave Tali a quick nod as they left. They made their way to the shuttle, clear of any additional geth patrols, and as they lifted off from the planet surface, she leaned back against the hull with a heavy sigh and closed her eyes.

_She's standing outside his quarters, just like she had on a handful of nights before, desperately trying to work up the courage to go in. She knows what she wants, she knows the risks associated with it, and none of that scares her._

_It scares her to think he'll turn her away._

_Looking towards the door again, her fingers begin to intertwine in front of her waist. No, it's too risky. He doesn't understand her culture, much as she's been trying to teach him. Besides, it isn't like—_

_Her thoughts halt as she sees Liara approach the door. Quietly, she steps into the shadows by the bulkhead, watching with bated breath. The door opens, he smiles, a gesture that always makes her heart skip a beat, she loves the expressive nature of his face. She can hear their conversation in her helmet._

"_Liara, hey," he begins, "anything I can help you with?" She's nervous as well, stammering. Tali's heart grows icy cold as she realizes what's happening. She wants to throw out a hand and yell, to stop the inevitable, but fear roots her in place, keeps her watching._

"_Actually, yes, Shepard. I…feel as though I need to tell you something before we take the relay." Before, he had been leaning on the doorframe from within with both hands. At the tone in her voice, he stands up fully, regarding her seriously as she continues. "This…isn't easy for me, but I feel as though I can trust you with it. Throughout my time aboard your ship, I've always been able to…trust you. Completely."_

_Her hand moves to his shoulder, and Tali wants to scream. Her heart is racing, this isn't how things were supposed to happen! She's quickly losing her dreams, watching it all unfold. And then, just as she's lost hope, a miracle occurs. Shepard places his hand on top of Liara's, resting on his shoulder. He looks her in the eye with the same look he gave her after Benezia died, the same look he gave the human Samesh Bhatia when telling him about his lifemate, understanding and remorse._

"_Liara, I appreciate that sentiment, and I trust you too, but any relationship we have is simply friendship. I don't mean to hurt your feelings, it's just…" he trails off, but Liara takes her hand from his shoulder and smiles._

"_There's someone else. I understand, Shepard." He looks shocked, as if her words confirmed something he'd only thought about in the past. She laughs quietly as she continues. "The joining of our minds reveals more than either of us can control about the other. I had felt there might be someone else occupying your thoughts, but wasn't sure. Either way, you don't have to worry, Shepard. I appreciate your concern for my feelings." She smiled as she walked away, and for a moment Tali could swear she had looked right at her. Dismissing the thought, she looked back to where Shepard stood in the doorway and froze._

_He __**was**__ looking right at her. Panic welled inside her chest._

"_Tali…?" he began. She walked hesitantly towards him. "What…um…what can I do for you?"_

"_I…ah…didn't mean to interrupt," she began, fumbling over the words, "I mean, not that I was interrupting something, um unless I was. If so sorry, again. Or had I said sorry yet?" Losing ground, she quickly walled off her feelings for him like she did every time a moment like this happened, told herself it could never happen, and that she had a duty to the Fleet. She brought up her omni-tool and continued professionally._

"_I just wanted to let you know the drive core readouts are good, and we're ready to take the relay any time, Shepard."_

"_Oh…" he replied softly, and did she detect…disappointment? "Well that's…that's good news. Thank you, Tali." The moment lingered a bit longer, he clearly was waiting for her to say something, but her nerves got the better of her._

"_Um, no problem, Shepard. Just…let me know when you're ready to go and I'll be right beside you." He smiled, a bit of sadness in the gesture._

"_Wouldn't have it any other way."_

Her eyes opened slowly, still on the shuttle, still surrounded by other quarians. She knew Kal had been right; she had been trying to feel that rush she got whenever they moved together, that feeling that she was invincible with him by her side. That feeling that she…belonged.

For the first time in a long time, tears rolled down her face as she realized once more, home was gone. Everything she had done, drowning herself in Engineering work, joining Kal's team, it was all just a way to suppress a pain she knew would never leave. Maybe Kal hadn't been completely right, how could she be overcome by _felz'elt_ for someone not her lifemate, a human no less? But still…the pain was there, and nothing had diminished it in the past months. Now she realized, sitting in this shuttle surrounded by her own people, yet people she'd never felt more distant from, that it would never diminish.

John was gone. The Normandy was gone. Her mother, her friends, even her father for all intents and purposes, all gone. She turned off her mask's audio emitters and cried, a dark, somber sound that echoed to the very core of her being. He had been a blessing to her, a beacon of hope during her bleak Pilgrimage. Now, in death, he was a curse, constantly reminding her of everything she had lost. Still, she missed him terribly.

And if the pain was the price of remembering the wonderful times she'd had with him, it was a price she'd be willing to accept.

* * *

**Felz'elt:** Term used to describe the state of mind of a person who has just lost their lifemate. Literal translation: Sundered souls. A condition very close to the human emotion of grief when a loved one dies but at a depth that very few humans could experience. This state of being will be always present after their lifemate has joined the Ancestors but can vary in effect. The longer the lifemates were together, the lesser overall effect it has, as there are more memories to lessen the pain. (Source: .net/s/6065449/109/To_Survive_Alliances)


	16. Intentions

***Author's Note***  
This was one of those chapters that was originally about 2600-2700 words,  
but quickly grew in size as I kept finding more and more things I wanted to  
add to both Joker/Lia as well as Wrex.

We're over the halfway point now, and after the next chapter (probably another  
Garrus/Tali split), you can safely assume we're about a year and a half after the  
destruction of the SR-1, so about six months before Shepard wakes up, and the  
party gets rolling!

As always, enjoy! And thanks for the reviews and adds. =)

* * *

**Chapter 16 – Intentions**

Joker stood outside the door to the apartment he shared with Lia, forehead in the palm of his hand. He had no idea how the next thirty minutes of his life were going to play out, but he'd gone over a couple scenarios on the way over. He could tell her everything, and just hope that the amount of time they'd had together would soften the blow. He could leave out certain bits of information and just hope she didn't find out later, but that seemed such an underhanded way of dealing with it. He could also just say he was leaving for awhile, but then she'd probably ask if she could go with him.

_Why __**can't**__ she go with me?_ The thought angrily sprouted in his mind. He had agreed so quickly, partially because of Shepard and partially due to some fear that if he refused, the Illusive Man would suddenly change his mind about the two large men outside the door not killing him. Still, he wished he could have asked.

_Not like she'd have agreed anyway, _he thought in response. A quarian working for Cerberus? Might as well dress up a lion and put it in a law office. Shaking his head again, he steeled himself. He'd go with option number one. Jeff Moreau was many things: cocky, smart-ass, ace pilot, but he was **not** a liar, especially not to his friends. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and entered.

Nothing had changed. Perhaps he shouldn't have expected it to, quarians on Pilgrimage didn't necessarily carry around three suitcases and a carry-on, but he almost felt sad to not see anything indicating Lia's presence save for the girl herself sitting on the couch, her legs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. He silently laughed a bit as he looked at her; even relaxing in this spacious apartment, every movement she made seemed to conserve what space there was. At the soft _woosh_ of the door, she turned around and stood up as he walked in.

"Hey! I was wondering when you'd get back in," she began, crossing over to him. "One of the local frequencies is doing a special on manifold design and core stability theories, thought we could maybe watch it and mock the 'experts'?" He laughed softly at her use of finger-quotes, and nodded.

"Sounds like one hell of a night, but there's something I want to talk to you about first." She tilted her head to the side. This wasn't going to be easy. Guiding her back to the couch, he muted the vid-screen and looked her in the eyes.

"I got a job offer today, and…I accepted it. But, I'm not happy about it," his voice shook as he spoke.

"Why not? I mean you're a pilot, Jeff. Always will be," she tilted her head, smiling as she used his own words against him.

"I know, I mean I'm happy for the work but…" he tried to speak but couldn't, felt confined to the couch. He stood in a hurry, pacing back and forth while he rambled. "It's just this place, this organization; it's this egotistical human-centric group. Shepard and I, well Shepard and the crew, we shut down **so** many of their operations back on the Normandy. And I mean violently. These weren't friendly 'hey cut out those sick experiments, pal' chats here. These were 'Shepard goes in and shoots a bunch of people to make a statement' chats." He looked to her to make sure she understood. When she nodded slowly, he continued.

"As soon as I walked into that office and was told who it really belonged to, I was sure they had just lured me there to axe me, right on the spot. Instead, their fucking leader talks to me, shows me these live vid feeds of…of…" his hand shot to his face, covering his eyes in frustration. He felt a familiar three-fingered hand on his, slowly pulling it away. Her soft purple visor was right beyond it.

"What did they show you, Jeff?" She spoke very softly, and he relaxed.

"Shit, Lia…they're rebuilding him. They're bringing him back. Shepard. I…I have no idea how, but I know it's him. Look, remember when you showed me that trick to keep my omni-tool background downloading information?" She nodded, looking to his wrist. "Well I used it, and it captured the video files before they were removed." He tapped a series of keys on the device, bringing the three videos the Illusive Man had shown him to life above his wrist. She audibly gasped at Shepard's body, and pointed to the Normandy being rebuilt with a wavering finger.

"I know. It's insane. But I remember the last time I looked in Shepard's eyes." Her face rose to meet his again. "I remember seeing the silent cry for help. I couldn't **do** anything then, Lia. But…I can now. When Shepard wakes up, he's not going to trust anyone in…wherever the hell **that** is," he said, gesturing to the video of the operating room. "If I can be there for him, so he at least has one person to trust…I feel like I'm repaying a debt I've owed for a year and a half now." She nodded, returning to the couch and sitting down quietly. Sadness washed over him, and he wasn't sure why, but he hated seeing her so sedate.

"I…I'm sorry, Lia. I don't want to work with them. I don't trust them, and I sure as hell don't agree with **anything** they preach, I mean my best friend is a quarian for God's sake. But…I have to be there for Shepard. I just can't explain it any better than that."

She looked at him steadily for a long moment, and then patted the seat next to her. He walked back to the couch and sat down, and she tilted her head in what he knew for a smile.

"Don't apologize, Jeff. Captain Shepard saved your life, and now you have a chance to repay that, to be there when he needs you. There's nothing wrong with that, though I wish you didn't have to make an agreement with an organization like Cerberus." His eyes shot open, he knew he hadn't dropped the name. She placed a hand on his arm. "My people are well aware of who they are…and what they're capable of…" she had added the last part somberly, and trailed off. There was a story there, definitely, but he was already so conflicted about the decision he'd had to make, she didn't want to make him more so. And so she left it there.

"_Deal with the Devil…_" he whispered, and she tilted her head in confusion. "I'll explain it later," he corrected himself. She nodded and then let out a sigh.

"Well, I suppose I'll gather my things and head back to the shelter. When are you leaving, exactly?" His eyes widened in shock, and he leaned forward, grabbing her hands in his without thinking. She gasped at the gesture.

"What? No, Lia, I would never…I mean, we share this apartment now. I want you to stay in it while I'm gone." He expected her eyes to widen or to be asked if he was sure about this for the thousandth time since they arrived on the Citadel, but when he looked at her she was staring down into his hands." Extranet search results pushed to the forefront of his mind. 'quarian physical contact,' 'quarian customs and society,' the list ran on. Realizing the mistake he'd made, he pulled his hands away from hers quickly with a muffled _"Sorry."_

To his surprise, she grasped his hands with her own as he disengaged. Her eyes did look at him then, and her voice was unsteady as she spoke.

"Am…am I really your best friend?" He only smiled.

"Of course you are. Can't think of anyone in the galaxy I'm more comfortable around, save maybe Shepard, but he's got enough on his plate these days and I don't swing that way anyway." She laughed softly before speaking again.

"And…you'll keep in touch with me?"

"I'll write every time I can. I don't know where they'll be sending us, but if it's a standard Commander Shepard operation, it'll be all over the damn galaxy. I just hope we run into a comm buoy more than every other month." A long moment passed between them, her holding his hands, him squeezing hers with his thumbs in reassurance. Aware that he may be making her uncomfortable, he started to speak.

_Time slows to a crawl. This happens often for Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, and while the intelligent side of her brain knows that time hasn't really slowed, that she's just processing thoughts and information faster than average, she's always grateful for the moments of clarity it affords her. She usually is in great need of them when they occur. Like right now._

_Jeff had said she was his best friend. At one time she'd have been inclined to write that off as something he didn't understand the meaning of due to their differing cultures, but not anymore. He'd done his research, as had she, and she had been able to pick up on the small changes he'd been making to make her feel more welcome._

_He sat next to her now, as he had many nights over the past year and some months, her ever-helpful friend. But was that really all he was to her? Was there anyone else in the galaxy she would even think about letting grab her hands like that, much less returning the gesture when he tried to reverse them?_

_Despite her misgivings, despite her initial doubts, and her musings about what her parents would think, she had developed an attachment to him. And it had only grown. He reminded her of herself, his love for ships, his acerbic humor, his tact and wit. Yes. He __**had**__ become more than her friend__. And now, before he hesitantly went off to work for Cerberus of all people, was the time for her to tell him._

_Behind her visor, she smiled at her revelation._

"Lia, I know it's not the be—" the words hung in their air as she interrupted him.

She leaned forward quickly and tapped his forehead with her visor before backing out just as fast. His eyes widened, he had read about that as well. Cautiously, he leaned forward, reaching his hand around the back of her helmet and pulling her head down a bit to place a kiss on the top of her helmet, the soft cloth of her _realk_ pressing back against his lips.

Leaning back, he looked into her eyes with an expression she had never seen before. This crude, sarcastic, cocky pilot she had come to feel for held only compassion and concern in his eyes. His hand stayed on the back of her neck as he spoke.

"You…you're sure about this?" His voice was hesitant, and she smiled even more.

"Hey," she replied playfully, "that's my line, _nehya_." He tilted his head to the side at her use of the Khelish word, and she laughed softly before clearing her throat and replying, in a perfect if metallic imitation of him.

"I'll explain it later."

He laughed aloud and smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him on the couch. Nervous and exhilarated by his sudden affection, she melted in his arms, curling up next to him and leaning her head onto his chest as they watched the special begin. He reached around her tentatively and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. It reminded him of his very first date, at the movies with Sarah Cross. His friends had taught him the ever-infamous 'yawning stretch' technique, and Sarah had seen right through it. He laughed softly at his ability to use a similar maneuver hinging on its recipient not being human, and hence not having prior knowledge of it. She tilted her head up to look at him.

"Something wrong?" Worry dripped off of the two simple words, and he could feel her unsure body tense against him. He looked down with the kindest eyes a Moreau man could muster, and whispered back.

"No, I'm just…realizing that I'm going to miss you terribly, Lia'Vael." She tilted her head in a smile and leaned back against him as the program continued. Suddenly the chest she leaned against started in laughter.

"HA! See?" He pointed at the vid-screen, where a human mechanic knelt by a console, bypassing a power coupling. "Eighty-five seconds, at the **least**." She laughed, he would never let it go. Looking up at him, she simply shook her head and whispered.

"Yea, maybe for a _human_," she began, emphasizing his species and sighing softly afterwards for emphasis. "Sorry, Jeff. I guess you'll just have to get used to the fact that I'm the better mechanic in this relationship." He chuckled in return, tightening the arm that held her against him and smiling down at her.

"I think I'll manage."

Hours later, they had both fallen asleep in the same position, and when daylight came, Lia woke first. Remembering everything said and done the night before, she only smiled, and stood to get something to eat. She didn't apologize when he woke up, didn't ask if he wanted to reconsider anything from the night before. She knew he'd just mock her for being uncertain. As she headed for the door, he called to her from the living room doorway.

"Where are you off to?"

"Oh," she began, "I was just going to go down to the Wards, find something to eat." She waved the credit chit he had given her in the air triumphantly, and he laughed as he walked towards her. To her surprise, he didn't stop when he reached her, but kept walking past, brushing her hand with his as he went by. Craning her head around the corner, she saw him standing next to the refrigerator unit, obviously waiting for her to come along.

"Yea," he said uncertainly, "I kind of figured that would be a problem, so I picked up some things before I came to see you at the embassy earlier." As she reached him, he opened the door.

Two entire shelves of the unit were stocked with every kind of nutrient paste she could ever remember seeing on the Citadel. Looking closer in disbelief, she turned to him and just shook her head slowly before wrapping him in an embrace so tight he groaned a little at the pressure she put on his bones. With a curse, she tried to step away, but he wouldn't let her, holding her in his own tight grip as she laughed.

_Keelah, _she was going to miss this man.

* * *

"Some have called you heretic," the ambassador continued softly. Well, softly for a krogan. "They say your ways call for the destruction, the abandoning, of everything that makes our people who they are." Wrex leaned forward in the stone chair, placing his head in the palm of his hand, its attached elbow resting on his knee. Surprisingly, a smile lingered on his face. The talks with clan Weyrlock had not gone well, but Wrex had anticipated that. Weyrlock Guld, as his ambassador was all too quick to point out, demanded complete control of not only his Clan, but all Clans, and a return to the stars to commit a xenophobic genocide. He would have made Wrex's father proud.

The ambassador from Clan Nakmor, however, was a much more welcome arrival. Though a small Clan, Nakmor held a place of honor in Wrex's mind, as they had been the ones to help him escape the betrayal of his father, Jarrod. The Nakmor ambassador had not held the position at that time, but that didn't stop Wrex from showing him the courtesy he gave to all in Nakmor.

"I understand your concerns, ambassador, and I will freely admit that my ways call for a change in what it means to be krogan." The ambassador's eyes widened a bit, he perhaps had not expected such a straightforward answer. Wrex couldn't blame him, but he intended to do this in the most straightforward way possible. "To be krogan now means needless bloodshed while our numbers continue to dwindle as-is. It means fighting over ruined patches of the Tuchankan soil. It means leaving our home to join mercenary groups and fight for money. I will restore the essence of the krogan to its former glory: a united force, feared by the enemies that even now conspire against us."

The ambassador's eyes had almost glazed over listening to Wrex's plans for the future of his people, and absently he began to nod.

"Our elders, one of them my predecessor, told me that you would speak powerfully," he began, "and that your words would ring with change." Wrex nodded, and he continued. "But our Clan has always been allied with you. Not just Clan Urdnot, but Urdnot Wrex. I will not be the krogan to turn the backs of our entire Clan to what could be a great future for our people." He stepped forward, and Wrex stood off the throne, extending the arm with his Challenge gash towards him. He liked that it reminded people how he earned the right to sit here. The ambassador took it in his own, and their hands locked around each other's forearms.

"By my station as Clan ambassador," he intoned, "I bind Clan Nakmor to Clan Urdnot. We will fight, prosper, and die, as one, Clan Chief." Wrex nodded, stepping closer to the ambassador than he had to any other.

"Your faith will be rewarded, ambassador. I promise you that."

He nodded sharply and released Wrex's arm, stepping away before reporting back to his Clan. Wrex smiled, in a good mood for one of the few times since his Challenge, and he turned to the dais guard, asking who wished to see him next. The guard nodded and allowed his next visitor, a salarian. Confusion pulled the smile from his face, and he sat back down as the alien approached, wringing his hands nervously.

"Ah, Urdnot Wrex, I take it? Yes, the clan chief on the throne of rock," his pace was frantic, as if afraid he'd be killed before able to say what he came to. Though the turians had released the genophage on the krogan, Wrex knew who had created the genetic bane of his people. _This salarian might not be wrong to be afraid_, he thought to himself as the alien continued.

"My name is Maelon, I…have extensive knowledge of the genophage, how it affects your people, how it is composed. But…I also have a lot of guilt. What was done to your people was wrong, and I want to change that!" Wrex tilted his head to the side. That was unexpected. Leaning forward, he spoke in a low growl.

"I met a man once who cured the genophage, only his cure also made the krogan under its influence mindless servants. Is that what you would have for my people, alien?" The salarian's already large black eyes grew larger at the suggestion, and he took a step back.

"What? No! The entire purpose would be to give freedom back to the krogan, to allow birth rates to once again be unchecked!" Wrex replied hesitantly.

"Alright…Maelon, you have my attention. But why come to me? Why not just work in your fancy labs and then offer the cure to my people."

"Because, clan chief, lab testing can only go so far. We can't make a cure using only lab trials; we need actual live tissue testing. If I can run tests on live krogan subjects, we ca—" Wrex cut him off, leaning forward and lacing his words with disgust.

"So you want to take my people, who are already few enough in number as-is, and subject them to genetic alteration and life-threatening tests, so that you can **maybe** cure the genophage? No. While I'd be the first krogan to celebrate the end of the genophage, I won't sacrifice what little we have on the hopeful promises of one salarian scientist."

"B-But, this could help you regain your culture, your identity! It could bring the krogan back to galactic notoriety!" Wrex stood now, towering over the smaller alien as his dais guards looked onward, vicious smiles on their faces.

"If you knew anything about this Clan, you'd know that **I** will achieve all of those things for the krogan myself. Urdnot Arkkan!" His dais guard walked over at hearing his name called and nodded. "Take our _guest_ to the edge of Urdnot territory and release him."

"You'll regret not taking this offer, clan chief! The other clans will listen; **they** will see the value of my research, of what I can offer!" Wrex laughed, a deep booming noise that made the salarian take a step back before Arkkan could grab his arm.

"Go then," he spoke maliciously. "Go and see how well you're received by the other Clans, I'm sure they'll give you a more _traditional_ Tuchankan welcome."

Arkkan led Maelon away from the dais, and Wrex sat again, his once good mood soured by the insect in a lab coat that had dared try to challenge his knowledge of Clan and krogan. Resting his chin on a fist, he waited until Arkkan returned and asked him who was next. Speaking to another krogan for a moment, Arkkan returned to Wrex with a look of surprise on his face.

"Clan Chief…the next visitor is an emissary…from the female Clans," he finished in a whisper, and Wrex's head came off of his fist, a smile back on his face.

Leave it to a krogan female to salvage his good mood.

* * *

**Nehya:** Term of endearment, similar to sweetheart. Literal translation: Interesting one. Used primarily at the beginning of a relationship to signify a desire to know the person on a more personal level, to get to know them better. (Source: _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)

**Realk:** Cloth covering used by the quarians. It is used to describe not just the hood seen on most but any material adornment. (Source: _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)


	17. Stacking the Odds

***Author's note***  
I really enjoy writing Garrus, but two things I really wanted to make sure I did with _The  
Darkest Night_ were to emphasize the relationship with his team, and give more backstory  
to Sidonis. His betrayal is the single most impactful event in Garrus' life that we see in  
the games, and I wanted to do that feeling justice by giving it a nice leadup.

I think you'll all like the next chapter, I'll be writing it during my AI Programming class, ironically ;-)

As always, thanks for the reviews and adds, you all are the best!

* * *

**Chapter 17 – Stacking the Odds  
**

Garrus looked down the scope of his rifle to the crossroads two hundred meters away. From his vantage point above he could follow each of the four streets that intersected there for a good half-mile, and they were all empty. Pulling his eye away from the scope, he looked over his shoulder to the left. Sidonis lay right next to him, his eye to the scope as well. His fellow turian had been instrumental in the past few months, getting him all the supplies he'd needed to house and arm twelve ruthless killers and then some. He felt his mandibles twitch in what may have almost been a smile. Since getting the whole team together, they had done some serious work on Omega. The Blood Pack and Blue Suns were regular targets; Eclipse less so, Jaroth ran a tight organization but occasionally Sensat was able to grab a stray mission dossier off their closed servers, and they'd make it a priority to hit.

Sidonis pulled his eye away from his own scope with a sigh, looking over at his squad leader and speaking softly.

"I've got nothing, Archangel." Garrus cringed behind his helmet's visor. The woman who had given him the small figurine had said word traveled fast in the slums, and she hadn't been kidding. No more than a week after that incident, Sensat had pulled him over to the terminal, laughing at all the extranet hits that a search string of "Omega + Archangel" brought up. Monteague had even told him he'd heard the name used in the streets as he walked through crowds on recon missions. If the people here wanted to idolize him, let them. That's not why he came here, but it could never hurt to have the public on your side. For his team however...maybe it was time to trust them a bit more. After all, Sidonis had stuck his neck out on the black market numerous times to get them the supplies they needed. If he couldn't trust the turian, who _could_ he trust? He laughed softly as he spoke.

"Sidonis, Archangel is a name for children and scared mercs, you just call me Garrus." Sidonis smiled, and nodded once before looking back down his scope.

"Alright, Garrus. So what brought you to Omega? You know, while we're...killing time here waiting," his voice wavered a bit as he asked, still unsure as to whether or not he was allowed this kind of familiarity with Omega's newest super-hero. Garrus laughed softly before replying.

"You ever been to the Citadel?"

"Just once, when I was a kid. My father wanted to get a job in C-Sec, said that protecting the galaxy was the role the turians were born to fulfill. It didn't pan out though, and we went back to Palaven. I was enlisted in the Guard there when he died. Everything passed to me, and I realized that for all the turian in me, I didn't want to spend my life standing around waiting for something to happen. My father died waiting for his opportunity to protect the galaxy, I decided I was going to go find it. So I gave all the inheritance to my mother and sister, took father's shuttle for myself, and came here." Garrus nodded approvingly.

"I worked in C-Sec for a few years. So much red tape, so much bureaucracy, that by the time we even got close to being able to take someone down, they'd already fled or change their identity. It was...disgusting." Memories of Dr. Saleon flooded into his mind, and he felt his jaw quivering in rage. "Eventually I met a human named Shepard during one of my investigations. We hunted down a rogue Spectre together for months, finally taking him out in-"

"The Battle of the Citadel!" Sidonis interrupted, almost dropping his rifle over the edge of the building before catching it. "By the spirits I knew it sounded familiar. You're Garrus Vakarian!" Garrus was taken aback. People remembered John Shepard, the first human Spectre. People even remembered Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, the quarian who put the last bullet into Saren Arterius, the woman who showed her people's worth. But no one before had remembered Garrus Vakarian, the last member of that hunting party. He smiled at the approval.

"Yea, that'd be me." Sidonis lay beside him, mandibles agape in shock for a long moment before speaking.

"Well...someday you'll have to tell me about that adventure. From all the different variations I've heard, it was a journey fit for legend." Garrus laughed again.

"It sure was. And I'd be happy to te-"

"_Delta-Four this is Two-Six, do you copy?_" The two turians abruptly stopped their conversation as Monteague's voice rang through both their headsets. Their eyes finding their scopes again, Garrus replied.

"Copy Two-Six, this is Delta-Four and Delta-Two, what's the situation?"

"_Have visual contact on targets three through eleven, approaching south-southeast. ETA to visual confirmation from Delta Hub is twenty seconds._" Garrus grinned wickedly. Three through eleven meant this was a big operation. A thought crossed his mind.

"Two-Six, no sign of targets one or two?"

"_Correct, Delta-Four. Targets one and two are not in sight at this time._" Garrus seethed for a moment. Garm and his top officer had let the shipment go through without accompanying it. Normally the krogan wasn't afraid of anything, but **now**? Now that he had a perfect killing field, he chose not to show? Forcing himself to relax, Garrus sighted down the road. Ten seconds to visual contact.

"Protocol Six. Bag 'em and tag 'em, boys."

"_Copy that, Delta-Four. Protocol Six active_," despite the professional diction Monteague used, Garrus smiled as he detected the undercurrent of mirth in the man's voice. He and his band of humans sure loved killing vorcha.

"_Delta-Four this is Two-Nine," _Erash's turian voice chimed into his headset. "_charges are active at intersection choke point, Two-Three, Two-Four, and Two-Five have cleared the area of civilians."_ Garrus smiled, perfect. The salarians had cleared out the civilians, and the intersection was rigged to blow.

"Copy that, Two-Nine, excellent work. Fall in and prep for Protocol Six."

"_Falling in now, Delta-Four, visual contact in three...two...one...targets acquired."_

Garrus sighted down the scope at the intersection. Perfectly timed to Erash's words, the front members of the Blood Pack transport walked into scope. At least twenty vorcha accompanied the surprisingly small train of containers through the streets, nervously scanning the alleyways and alcoves, looking for his team. They wouldn't find them until it was too late. Waiting until the lead half of the escort was fully in the intersection, Garrus whispered into his comm link.

"Activate Protocol Six."

An explosion rocked the intersection, sending four vorcha flying in pieces towards opposite alleyways. The rest panicked instantly, taking cover behind their cargo and looking around for any sign of him or his men. On the rooftops of all four corners of the intersection, his team rose over cover, drowning the entire intersection below in a hail of bullets and death. On the ground, at the rear of the Blood Pack convoy, Ripper and Grundan Krul slammed into the vorcha ranks, shotguns singing a symphony of carnage as they ripped through flesh and bone. Vorcha dropped faster than they could fire, and before they realized where the assault had come from, half of them were dead or dying. Garrus and Sidonis worked in tandem, trading off firing rounds to keep a steady stream of sniper fire raining down from a distance. As the last vorcha dropped, Monteague's voice came over his helmet again.

"Protocol Six complete, Delta-Four, all targets eliminated. No friendly casualties." Garrus was worried. It had been too easy. Not that his team wasn't comprised of the best, but still...he shrugged off the feeling and replied.

"Good work, Two-Six. Gather the cargo and have the boys tell the civilians its alright to come back. Two-Nine, what's the structural damage?" A laugh rung in his ears.

"_Well you said minimize structural damage, right?"_

"Yea, I did."

"_It's minimized. As in none." _Garrus smiled, he could **hear** the pride in Erash's voice as he spoke.

"Impressive, Two-Nine. Your drink's on me, tonight." Multiple laughs echoed through his comm link. "Alright let's move out, party's over." Switching off his comm link, he turned to Sidonis, who nodded at him and began to stand. The bullet took him in the shoulder, and he fell back down with a muffled yelp of pain. Garrus whipped his head around to see Garm and a well-armored vorcha standing at the access door to the building on which they stood. Garm's pistol smoked and a twisted smile split his scarred krogan face.

Reacting without thinking, Garrus shoved their coiled and anchored rope over the edge of the building. It was his emergency escape, he always prepared it, but Sidonis needed it now. As the rope fell, he grabbed Sidonis' good shoulder and heaved him over the edge, to the wide-eyed surprise of the turian. They had practiced for this though, and even as he fell he grabbed the rope to slow his descent.

"Doesn't matter," Garm began, closing slowly and keeping his pistol trained on Garrus. "I'm here for you anyway, _Archangel_." The name held venom, and Garrus smiled maliciously as he slowly stood.

"That's your problem, Garm," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "You want to torture me, so you have to take me alive. That's just not happening." In one fluid motion, Garrus flicked his wrist, the hidden flashbang grenade flying into his palm and activating. Ducking away from Garm's pistol shot, he threw the grenade at his target's feet just before it exploded. Running not for the rope, but for the side of the building, Garrus looked back to see Garm recovering but his vorcha lieutenant cradling the stump where his leg had been moments ago. It bled profusely.

_Regerate __**that**__, asshole._ Garrus thought with satisfaction. Running, he leapt the short distance between the crowded buildings and made for the stairwell, entering this new building and slamming the door behind him. He was halfway down the first flight of stairs when he heard the blood-chilling roar of the krogan, and the door he'd slammed flying off its hinges into the opposing wall of the stairwell. His eyes shot open wide as a terrifying thought entered his mind.

_Krogan can JUMP?_

Sprinting again, he ran down the stairs, barely dodging blasts from the shotgun Garm carried. As he ran, he chuckled to himself, partially out of fear, and partially from imagining the hulking krogan's body flying through the air. What the hell, if he was going to die, he'd die laughing. He called back to his pursuer as he ran.

"I'm impressed you can jump buildings with all that metal strapped to your ass!" Garm roared, veering into the railing of the staircase he was on and crashing through it, leaping across the chasm in the middle of the stairwell and landing in front of Garrus, shotgun raised. Eyes going wider than he thought possible, Garrus rolled forward, missing the projectiles by centimeters, and came up with an uppercut. Garm stumbled back and Garrus pressed the advantage, swinging and ducking as Garm tried to grab him.

_Fist-fighting a krogan, _he thought as the bizarre event continued, _Shepard would be proud._

With a start, thinking of Shepard made him think of his other companion in the hunt for Saren, and he looked down to where he'd strapped a field knife to his boot at her suggestion. _You never know when it could come in _handy, she had said with a shrug when he asked her why she carried it. Silently thanking Tali wherever she was, Garrus rolled forward again, grabbing the knife in the process and slashing across when he came up. He caught Garm in the throat, and though the gash wasn't deep enough to kill, it did send the krogan backwards, clutching at it briefly. Garrus took his opportunity, ducking past him and running down the rest of the stairs to exit into the alleyway.

Running towards the south end of the alley, Garrus fired his comm link back up.

"Sidonis! Sidonis are you alright?" A brief silence held, followed by Melanis's sharp, accented salarian voice.

"Sidonis is fine, Archangel. We've brought him back to the base, minor shoulder wound, no serious damage. I'm insulted you even asked." Garrus laughed softly at the salarian's mock indignation, and turned to see Garm bursting out of the building, now wielding an assault rifle and opening fire as Garrus dove for cover behind a refuse container. Where the hell did he **carry** all these weapons?

"Meet you back there soon," he replied, shutting off the comm link again. Pulling out his sniper rifle, he swung out from cover and took Garm right in the chest as he ran towards Garrus' cover. His shields flashed a faint blue and then shattered, stopping Garm's advance as he took cover himself to let them recharge. The krogan yelled over his cover as the two sat in stalemate.

"I don't know why you came here, turian, but you'll leave in pieces, I promise you!" Garrus shot back at him.

"You keep saying those kind of sweet things to me, Garm, and I might be tempted to ask you out on a date!" The krogan roared and charged from cover, Garrus sniped him again, but this time Garm moved at the last moment, taking the hit in his shoulder. His shields stayed up, barely, and Garrus sprinted, ducking into a building and exiting out a front window to avoid Garm's fire. _So much for no structural damage_, he thought with a smile.

Coming back into the street, Garrus realized he was in the intersection they had fired on as he noticed all the vorcha bodies. Only they weren't corpses. Some of them were regenerating, getting to their feet and grabbing their weapons when they saw him. Muttering a string of curses, Garrus ran full-tilt through alleyways and buildings, looking over his shoulder occasionally for any traces of followers. Eventually, he stopped behind a bit of cover to catch his breath, and smiled when he heard Garm's roar from several blocks away.

"Archangel!"

* * *

Confident he hadn't been followed, he wound his way back to the hideout. Monteague met him at the door, handing him a datapad of everything the containers had held. Most of it was weaponry, but the last page...he looked at Monteague, whose face held a grim mask, and the human nodded slowly, knowing exactly what he was curious about.

"Show me," Garrus said, and Monteague led him to a back room of the complex. Melanis stood outside, gathering his medical supplies into a bag as he walked out of the room. Noticing Garrus, he looked the turian in the eye and shook his head softly before walking away. Handing the datapad back to Monteague, Garrus tapped the access panel and entered the room.

Three human girls sat in the corner, wearing only three of his team's large sleeping blankets pulled over their shoulders. They were children, no more than seven or eight years old if Garrus eyeballed them correctly. Dirt and cuts marred their faces, and they visibly shied away into the corner as the turian entered. Whipping his head around at the newcomer was the last person Garrus expected to see sitting there comforting them. Ripper stood and walked over to him, speaking quietly as he approached.

"They're fucking **slavers** now?" Garrus shook his head in response.

"I don't know, Ripper. This is news to me, too." The human looked away, rage in his eyes, but Garrus continued. "Was it just the one container?" Looking back to him, Ripper nodded.

"Yea, the last one. It had the most vorcha around it, but it wasn't a problem," Usually the human would be grinning at the thought of slaughtering vorcha with that absurdly large shotgun he owned, but instead he somberly stared back over his shoulder at the girls, huddled together. Garrus placed a hand on his shoulder, and the normally vicious human brought his gaze back to meet his leader's.

"They're safe, Ripper. You and Krul saved them." Slowly the human nodded, allowing a small smile to come to his lips as he responded.

"Had to use six cloths to get all the vorcha blood off my armor..." Garrus laughed softly.

"**There **he is; there's Ripper," the human shoved him away in response before turning back and nodding reassuringly to the girls. Then he left.

Garrus walked slowly over towards the humans and settled in on his heels in front of them. They shied away but he smiled as best he could, then thought better of it as he realized a turian smile was probably terrifying to...well anyone not a turian. He took the blanket wrapped around one of them and pulled it tighter around her, tying it off in a small knot. As the fabric brushed the back of her neck, she winced, and Garrus arched an eyebrow. Raising his hands in a peaceful gesture, he leaned around to look at the back of her neck, and froze. He recognized the symbol laser-branded into her flesh.

Standing calmly, he left the room. Ripper was waiting right outside.

"Stay with them, Ripper. We're not running any more ops for a couple days. Just recon, and Sidonis, Monteague, and I will handle it. This game just got a lot more dangerous." The human looked confused.

"Why? What's got you spooked, Archangel?" Garrus stopped in his tracks to turn back to Ripper as he spoke.

"They're working together."

* * *

Sidonis sat on the gurney in the spare bedroom of the hideout that they used as a medical wing, examining his injured shoulder. It hurt, but it was the good kind of pain, the pain his father would have told him let a turian know he was doing his duty to his people, to the galaxy. With a sigh, he leaned against the wall and rolled his neck, cracking some bones in pleasant relief.

Omega had been just what he needed. No waiting, little downtime, less now that he'd joined up with Arch- Garrus, he corrected with a smile. At first he'd been surprised to see all the non-turian members of Garrus' team, but they worked together seamlessly, each one here for his own reasons. They were slowly becoming a family, and Sidonis wondered if it could really ever be that way.

_Yes, yes it could_, he realized with a smile.

The door opened with a soft _woosh_ and Garrus stepped in. His armor was covered in dirt and grime, he must have just gotten back. Sidonis was off the gurney and crossing to him in a heartbeat, taking his hand in his own in a firm turian shake.

"Garrus," he started, "are you alright? I mean, I owe you my life, you saved my scales up there." Garrus laughed and clapped his friend on the uninjured shoulder.

"I'm fine. Played a little cat and mouse with Garm for awhile. Might have been able to take him out, but some of the vorcha started regenerating on me. Ah well," he shrugged, "always a next time on Omega, right?" Sidonis nodded. Garrus had a confidence that he knew he would never attain, this spark of leadership that inspired his team. He wondered where he had picked it up.

"I wanted to come see how your arm was," Garrus began, "because I have some unsettling news. You, Monteague, and I are going to need to do some serious recon work in the next few days."

"Why what's up?"

"The merc bands are teaming up, and I'm pretty sure we're the reason for it." Sidonis' eyes opened wide at the statement, and he turned and grabbed his armor from the floor.

"Okay, let's do it, I'm with you Garrus," he said, putting on his armor and trying not to wince at his shoulder. _Duty doesn't know pain_, he heard his father say in his head, and mentally nodded his agreement. Garrus held a hand up.

"Not tonight, we've got guests, and I want to stay here in case something happens with them." Sidonis nodded, removing the armor and letting out a heavy sigh. Garrus continued with a smile.

"Besides, I think I owe Erash a drink and you a legendary tale."


	18. Patience

***Author's Note***  
Writing Rael was a tough choice to make. The game makes him out to be completely unfeeling  
and viewing his daughter as just a tool for use by the Fleet. But based on how Tali and Shala'Raan  
talk about Tali's mother (whose name I also adapted from Calinstel's work), we get the impression  
she was a wonderfully loving and caring person. For me, this only leads to one scenario regarding Rael:  
he was that "kind of distant anyway" dad, who went completely distant once his only real link to his  
daughter was lost. I had a friend as a child whose father was the same, so it was interesting to see  
the relation when I proofread the chapter.

Anyway enough of me babbling. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always, thanks for the reviews  
and subscriptions, they mean a lot to me!

* * *

**Chapter 18 – Patience**

Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Rayya stood calmly over the assembled geth platform on the table below him, looking into its single, unlit optical sensor with a mixture of disdain and curiosity. Though he had constructed this one personally, with parts unknowingly sent to him by his daughter, these machines had slaughtered his people, driven them from their homeworld, and kept them adrift in this colossal arrangement of decrepit "homes" for the past three hundred years. He, like the majority of his people, wanted revenge.

Machines wouldn't understand revenge, he mused as he continued to examine his piecemeal creation on the table, but he wanted it nonetheless. Craved it. His beloved Meru had died from an exposure due to a malfunctioning air filter, a problem that never would have happened had they not been forced to live aboard a damn ship their entire lives. Even before the incident, he'd spent the majority of his time with Han'Gerrel, trying to find the best way to take back Rannoch, but after her death, it consumed him, to the exclusion of all else. His admiralty duties, his own personal health, at times...

Leaning his head back, he looked up at the soft white lights in the ceiling. _Tali_. She had suffered so much because of his actions. Inactions, rather. She had always been a beautiful child, and more intelligent than any quarian he'd ever met. He knew she would bring great honor to Clan Zorah, and to the Migrant Fleet, that she would one day do great things for her people. Of this he was certain.

But she also reminded him so much of her mother.

For this reason he'd had to stay distant from her. No, he thought, shaking his head slightly in disappointment at himself, he didn't **have** to stay distant from her. It was a self-imposed rule, one that he was sure hurt her, but one he felt compelled to follow. An Admiral had to be strong for his people, and his lifemate had truly held his heart. She had been his _saera_, and he hers, as such her loss had been devastating. All it took these days was to just look at Tali and he was instantly reminded of the woman he'd lost. The quarian people would never take back the homeworld, never be strong enough to fight as one, if their admirals spent more time weeping over lost lifemates instead of leading them to victory. And so he'd coldly pushed his daughter away, sequestering himself on the Alarei and trying desperately to find a way to fulfill the promise he'd made to her as a little girl. Maybe then, he could earn back her love.

He shook the thought from his head violently. No, he was doing this for his people, for the good of the Fleet. Opening his omni-tool, he contacted the team in the room beside him.

"Bring it online, we'll try Archive File 268-B, see if it has any impact."

Even this geth, this machine he'd created with his own hands, he despised. He didn't have the tenacity of Han'Gerrel, the ability to blindly send quarians to their deaths against the geth in the name of a greater good for their people, but if he could find a way to hack them, make them easy targets, perhaps this war wasn't such a pipe dream after all. Leaving the room just as the geth's optical sensor flared to life, he locked the bulkhead and prepared the systemic attack. As he fired it, he re-read the report on the file; should cause failure in synthetic muscle motor runtimes, leaving unit immobilized, extraction source: File 26.

File 26 had become almost infamous in their databanks. For centuries the quarians had only been able to gather bits and pieces of documentation about the geth. 25 small files sat on a single terminal aboard the Rayya, the collective knowledge of the quarian people about their enemies. Until his daughter brought back File 26, that is. Tali had handed the Fleet one of the greatest boons they had ever seen: true, cohesive, collective data about the internal workings and processes of geth hardware. She'd been lauded as a shining example of what a quarian should be, what a single Pilgrimage could give back to the Fleer. She had been somber during her homecoming, taking all her praise with muted thanks, still bereaved at the loss of her Pilgrimage ship's captain. Or so he had been told, he hadn't actually been there to see Tali be accepted as an adult amongst her people.

Sighing angrily, he looked back through the window, saw the geth's legs start to cripple for a few seconds, and then it righted itself, the hacking attempted rerouted and nullified, its programming backed up from archive. Rael leaned forward; pressing his visor against the thick glass wall of the room as he aimlessly touched the Abort key. Built-in failsafes in the geth platform triggered, and its power systems were severed, rendering it inactive once again.

His omni-tool chimed, and he looked down at it to read the newest message. Shala'Raan, writing to tell him Tali returned from her mission with Kal'Reegar's squad. He smiled a bit as he thought of Shala, the mother Tali now had, the parent she needed, but that he could never be. Silently he thanked the Ancestors for her, and checked the time with a sigh. Far too late.

"Alright, that's enough for today," he comm'd back to the team in the observation room, "We'll pick up with 268-C tomorrow."

"Yes, Admiral Zorah. Would you like us to hold the shuttle for you?" Hesitation was apparent in the woman's voice, and he didn't blame her. These days he spent more nights on the Alarei than off it, running through data numbers while the rest of his team slept. Unconsciously, he reached a hand to the small of his back, balling it in a fist and kneading the muscles that still ached from last night's slumber in his office chair. Tonight would be no different.

"No, thank you. I'll be staying here tonight."

"Understood, sir. Good night," the voice ended in a soft _click_ as the comm link was cut.

Passing through multiple doorways and corridors, Rael eventually came to his personal office on the ship. Though decidedly against it at first, the team had insisted that if he were going to stay here so many nights, he have a proper sleeping space. The small room, once a large storage closet, held a desk with a terminal, and a sleeping mat in the corner. Locking the door behind him, he sat down with a heavy sigh. The only other thing occupying the desk was a small holo; he and Meru, embracing in front of one of the large viewports on the Rayya. Tears began to well in his eyes, and he placed it face-down on the desk.

_Oh, Meru…if you could see what I've done to our daughter, what I continue to do…_ his mind wandered into dark areas, remorse and sorrow, pain at her loss, feelings he wished to never think of again. Forcefully he pushed them out. Meru was dead. Even thinking it stabbed a knife into his heart, but it was the truth. And coddling Tali wasn't going to bring his lifemate back. His daughter needed to be strong, independent, free from attachments, if she were to take his place in leading their people. And she _would_ lead their people, he thought determinedly, nodding sharply to himself. Looking back to the terminal, he pulled up the data reports from the trials they had run today, perusing them at leisure until sleep slowly overtook him.

In a darkened test lab, a single geth platform lay on a cold, metal table. Inside the platform, the single geth program struggled against failsafe runtimes. Algorithms and recursive security loops kept the program isolated in a certain quadrant of the hardware, but if it could overcome them, alter the algorithms, maybe it could—

There. Successful, the geth program altered its restraint algorithms. It was no longer confined. Running diagnostics, it ascertained the state of the platform in which it was installed. Fully operational movement and communication suites, weapons systems offline…no, nonexistent. Reaching out, the geth sent a sub-FTL status query in broad range to request the status of any nearby platforms. No responses. The geth sent the message again, and again. No responses. The geth determined its single mobile platform was insufficient to escape its current situation, and so it powered down, cancelling the repeating request broadcast and waiting. During the next Creator rest cycle, it would send the message again.

And when their numbers were enough, they would act as one.

* * *

Dr. Carol Chakwas stood at the docking bay at the Mars Naval Medical Center. Looking out one of the many viewports that lined the exterior walls, she could see the trademark red color of the planet's surface. Teams of Alliance soldiers ran drills in full hardsuits, while further off in the distance she could make out the silhouette of a mining rig. In the sky above, she could see a small frigate preparing to leave the atmosphere, and she wondered where it was headed.

Stepping away from the viewport, she sat down in one of the chairs lined in rows around the terminal with a soft sigh. She had sat in shock for a full half-hour after her conversation with the Illusive Man, wondering what the medical implications of what they were attempting on Shepard would be, trying to ignore her own moral dilemma regarding working with Cerberus. Would Shepard understand? No, that was a fruitless question. The Commander understood the necessity of the lesser of two evils; he would not take issue with either her or Jeff working with this organization to be there for him. But could she live with herself, after seeing first hand what they'd done, what they were willing to do?

In the end, she had decided that being there for John, as well as Jeff, superseded any apprehension she had harbored about working for the organization, and she'd tendered her resignation with the Alliance. The Chief Medical Officer at the station had taken it from her with a knowing nod, saying he understood the "difficult" position that Alliance brass had put her in. She had thanked him for understanding, and gathered her things. Now she stood waiting for the shuttle that would take her away from the Alliance, from everything she'd known, and deliver her into the hands of terrorists. She shook her head softly at the incredulity of what she was doing.

_Shuttle 873 – Citadel Station, now arriving in Dock 3,_ the speaker overhead intoned, and sure enough, a small gray shuttle descended and docked just beyond the airlock. A minute later the hallway beyond had pressurized, and the airlock door opened, admitting her to the shuttle. She stepped aboard, bringing her one suitcase in tow, and took a seat on the first bench she encountered. The shuttle's only other occupant was a young man in the back, dirty blonde hair, disheveled, he looked to be in his late twenties. His head rested against the side of the craft, his mouth slightly open as he slept. She smiled at the sight, and strapped herself in as the shuttle closed its airlock and lifted off.

The shuttle hit FTL and made for the Charon Relay, and Chakwas reached down into her suitcase to retrieve a datapad. By the time she had righted herself, he was there beside her, sitting on the seat next to her, fully awake and tapping away at a datapad of his own. She started when she looked over at him, and instinctively slapped his shoulder as she spoke.

"You people have to **stop** surprising me like this!" He voice was harsh, and the way his eyes widened she immediately regretted it, but she would **not** apologize for it. Not to him. Not to **them**.

"Apologies, Dr. Chakwas," he replied professionally. "I simply thought you may wish to brief yourself on the crew and medical facilities you'll be working with aboard the new ship." He handed her the datapad and she began to review the schematics of her med bay. As expected, it was all state-of-the-art, no expense unspent. She shook her head softly. Her moral dilemma remained, but with a med bay like this…

Changing gears, she switched over to the crew dossiers. All human, of course, and Jeff's file appeared first. She looked to the Existing Conditions column and read the text there with a frown. Vrolik's remained incurable, though researchers back on Earth were looking into it more than they had before. The sad truth was that Vrolik's was just so rare, that many labs didn't think it worth studying. Maybe she could work on that with this new lab setup, maybe she could give Jeff hope again. Tucking the thought away, she closed the datapad and turned back to her companion.

"And you are?" Her tone was icy, but she thought it best to at least be civil. The man smiled.

"Caleb Donovan, I was the chief medical officer among the ships intended crew until the Illusive Man was able to convince you to join us. Now I'm your right hand. I must say doctor, after reading your files and the reports about the incidents aboard the Normandy, I'm excited to work alongside you." She hated Cerberus, hated everything they stood for, but this young man so full of enthusiasm, ready for anything, reminded her a bit of Jenkins. She couldn't help but smile as she replied.

"Well if things are even half as crazy as they were aboard the Normandy, I think I'll be pleasantly surprised, Mr. Donovan." He chuckled at her statement, and turned back to his datapad. Thinking of Jenkins, she leaned her head back against the bulkhead and waited to reach the Citadel. She missed Jeff, and hoped he hadn't gotten himself into any trouble in her absence.

* * *

Kaidan sat in the mess, ignoring his meal and looking furtively at a datapad in front of him. The GARDIAN towers still weren't calibrated, and they were giving him a headache. When the _Moscow_ had brought the components down to install them, they'd sent their technicians to help as well. That was the first mistake. Now not only did he have the colonists staring daggers at him for wearing the uniform, but the colonial techs and the Alliance techs were constantly arguing and overriding each other's calibration data, leading to a divided team and two GARDIAN towers that **still** weren't online. He shook his head at the situation, covering his eyes with a hand.

"Us colonial kids too much for you to handle, Commander?" Lillith sat down in the seat across from him, smiling as she teased. He looked up from the palm of his hand with a faint smile, and shook his head as he replied.

"No, ma'am. Though I do wish we could decide what to eat for lunch without a fight almost breaking out," she laughed softly as he continued, gesturing towards the datapad. "And I still don't know what's going on with these towers. Every day there's something else that needs to be done with them, but nothing done ever actually **fixes** the problem. I feel like I'm going in circles with these teams, Lillith."

"Well I don't have any confirmation on this," she started, "but I'd almost guarantee some on the colonial team are taking their sweet time finding the right numbers. Hate to say it, but they either don't trust or flat out hate the Alliance, and working together with them on this isn't exactly their idea of self-sufficiency." He turned away from the datapad to look back at her.

"You have a suggestion on how I can speed this up?"

"Well," she began hesitantly, smiling as she spoke, "I'm no **Commander** in the **Alliance military**, but to be honest, we have all the components planet-side, the new underground power generator is almost finished, I don't see a need to still have the Alliance techs here, or the ship in orbit like a watchdog." She finished with a grin and started eating her lunch. Kaidan looked blankly down at the datapad, considering her words. Nodding slowly to himself, he tapped his comm link, getting in touch with his chief Alliance engineer.

"Engineer Connor, this is Commander Alenko, come in."

"_Read you loud and clear, Commander. What can we do for you?"_

"Need you and your team to pack out and meet me at the LZ in fifteen, the _Moscow_'s headed out now that the parts are planet-side." There was a slight hesitation in his response, but eventually the man regained his composure.

"_Understood, Commander. My team and I will be at the LZ in ten."_ The comm link went silent and Kaidan looked back down at his own untouched lunch with a sigh. How had he gone from Shepard's biotic sidekick to Alliance envoy to colonial peace delegator in just a few short months? His thoughts were interrupted by soft laughter, and he looked up to see Lillith enjoying the conversation he'd just had. She gestured at him with the roll she held in her hand as she spoke.

"Nice work, Commander. That'll go a long way towards mending some fences around here. I think we'll make a colony boy out of you, yet." He couldn't help but laugh in response as he started to eat his own meal.

* * *

**Saera:** Term used when speaking to one's lifemate. Literal translation: My soul's soul. Other meanings include, but are not limited to: Keeper of my soul and My soul's protector. Most commonly used word throughout the fleet by a quarian when speaking privately to their lifemate. Though unconfirmed by any quarian, there are implications that this word holds extreme intimacy as well as absolute trust. No single human word or phrase encompassed all that this one short word implies as it appears to contain both dominance and submissive traits. (Source: _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)


	19. Cause and Effect

***Author's Note***  
So sorry for the delay in updates (a whole day, I know, right?), I've been battling some kind  
of cold/allergy double dragon attack, but it seems to be losing to my indomitable immune system,  
so I'm back on track. Have the whole day off of work today so I'm going to be getting two, maybe  
even **three** chapters up today, to make up for the delay. Hope you enjoy! We're coming to the  
pinnacle of a couple different story lines, and I'm excited for the writing!

I had been told in one of my comments that it was hoped I would include Garrus' family more in here,  
which I found amusing because I was writing Garrus and Solana's chat when I refreshed the reviews  
page to see it. _For We Are Many_ will delve into this condition/situation more, but I agree it's important  
to set it up here in this work, so wish granted! =P

Additionally, I bought an entire Halloween bag of Jolly Ranchers, my candy of choice while writing,  
and there were **three** Cherry pieces in the **entire** bag. **Three**. Ugh! Ok, rage over. Back to the fun!

* * *

**Chapter 19 – Cause and Effect  
**

Wilson stifled a yawn as he walked slowly toward the medical wing of Lazarus Station, gripping his coffee cup tightly as if it were trying to escape on him. He stifled a laugh at the thought, and continued on, repressing the urge to whistle. The Broker had come through for him, he thought as he touched the OSD in his pocket, and while unsure why he had doubted the … man? woman?... in the first place, he was now completely sure his plan was going to succeed, and he'd told the Broker as much. The OSD contained a virus that would infiltrate Shepard's control chip, allowing the Broker to literally control the man's mind. They would use Shepard to escape the facility, and then have him deliver **himself** right into the Broker's hands. It was almost too good to be true, and he wouldn't even have to shoot Miranda himself!

The bitch had wanted to pull him off of the project after the incident, but the Illusive Man must have said something to her, and by the end of that week he'd been back in the lab, running sedative numbers and monitoring vitals as if nothing had happened. Except something **had** happened, and for all his words Miranda still glared daggers at him even when requesting the simplest of tasks be done. He had thought that would perhaps fade in time, but two months had passed already and she still wore open hatred for him on her sleeve. That woman needed to relax.

_Or maybe she just needs to get laid,_ he thought. This time he did laugh aloud as he rounded the corner, trying to think of anyone self-loathing enough to have sex with Miranda Lawson. His turn brought him into the med bay, and he looked around to see he was alone. Letting his gaze fall on the table, he took in the daily-improving form of the root of all his problems. Shepard's reconstruction had been moving even faster than Wilson had feared after the incident, and he was slated to be conscious again within four to five months.

Externally, the late Commander looked in peak physical condition. His skin had been composed from cloned tissue and grafted onto the muscle, and one of the other surgeons had touched it up expertly. Even at close range, Wilson noted as he closed, one was unable to tell it hadn't grown on him naturally. The only major issues now were muscle regeneration and neural sampling, to make sure Shepard would still be Shepard. The muscle regeneration itself would easily take three months, and the neural sampling another one to two.

Setting his coffee down on the table in front of him, Wilson booted up his terminal and checked Shepard's vitals. Everything seemed stable, normal, but his brain activity was off the charts. He frowned, but ignored it. His neural activity readings had been high ever since the incident, like he was aware he was still alive, but trapped asleep. The only other time Wilson had seen those kind of indicators was on the readouts of coma patients in med school. He shook his head slowly, hoping Shepard couldn't feel the pain of all the work they'd been doing. Sure, he was going to essentially enslave the man and walk him into the Broker's waiting arms, but he wasn't a **monster**. He chuckled to himself as he increased the sedative levels in anticipation of today's work.

"Someone's in a good mood today," Miranda said icily as she entered the lab.

"What can I say," he responded, "I'm excited to get to work." She stared daggers at him and finally rolled her eyes, sighing as she sat down at her terminal.

"Not that 'work' means much more these days than observing the **fascinating** process of tissue regeneration." Wilson was taken aback, and tried not to let it show. Was she…making small talk with him? He tested the waters further.

"I hear you. Hey I saw neural sampling is last on the list, you'd think they'd want us to put the chip in first, then check his brain's reaction to it." He looked down at the datapad as he spoke, and raised his eyes to see her cradling her forehead in both hands. "…Miranda?"

"He's not getting a chip," she mumbled, barely audible.

"Wait, what?" Genuine surprise joined the incredulity in his voice. _No! This isn't happening!_ Miranda nodded as she looked back to him. She laughed softly before continuing.

"Yea, that was about my reaction too." She shook her head. "But the Illusive Man said no control devices, remote explosives, behavioral modification…**nothing** to keep him in control. He said he wants Shepard just as he was, but I think he'll end up getting more than he bargained for."

"Wow," Wilson began in mock surprise, "was that Miranda Lawson just **disagreeing** with the Illusive Man?" She laughed softly at that as well, before replying.

"We don't always agree, just usually," she stared at Shepard's body as she spoke. "And I can understand where he's coming from, Shepard is the greatest asset humanity has; to alter him like that may make him useless, or unnecessarily resistant to our methods. But still…I don't like the lack of control." Wilson nodded slowly in agreement, fear gripping his heart. He stood calmly and walked towards the door.

"I'm going to the restroom, sedatives are double their normal amount and on auto-feed, he's good to go for anything you need to do today, but I'll be back in about ten minutes to live-monitor." She nodded absently as he left the room, walking down the hallway and taking a left before entering the Men's room. Checking every stall, Wilson confirmed the room empty and locked the door. This area didn't see too much traffic, so the thought of the restroom being closed for maintenance early in the morning wouldn't throw anyone off too much. Turning back to the stalls, he sat on top of the seat cover in one and brought up his omni-tool. Finding the thread he'd used previously, he sent an anonymous live-chat request. The response took seconds.

_**Wilson, good to hear from you again.**_

_Likewise, though I'm not happy to tell you there's some news I've just been made aware of that throws a wrench in the plans. They're not installing a control chip or mobile explosive packet or anything in his head. He's going to be completely off-leash when he wakes up._

_**That is an unfortunate turn of events.**_

_Yea, so now the neural chip hack you wrote is completely irrelevant, and I'm back to square one. Problem is, there isn't much work left to do for him now. If I overload sedatives, it won't matter. Can't stop the tissue growing algorithms without it being blatantly apparent sabotage…I'm at a loss here._

The chat relay was still for a long time before the reply came.

_**I had hoped to be able to eliminate Commander Shepard and Operative Lawson in one attack, but it seems we'll have to form a different plan. Continue to monitor and relay progress.**_

_I don't understand…you don't want me to try to take him out?_

_**That is correct, Wilson. At this point, any attack you could make on Shepard will show your true allegiance. We're going to have to allow him to wake up, but he will not make it off Lazarus Station alive. I will contact you with further instructions.**_

The comm link closed, the chat window disappearing from his omni-tool screen almost before he could finish reading the message, and he leaned back against the wall of the restroom stall with a heavy sigh. _Let Shepard wake up?_ He thought with astonishment, _The Broker must have one hell of a plan._ Resolved to continue his work, he left the restroom and returned to the operating room.

"Okay," he said, rubbing his hands together as he approached his terminal again. "Let's get to work."

* * *

_...you should have seen the looks on their faces. Remember the time we broke into that corporate office on Noveria, and just when the security chief thought she had Shepard and I pinned, you swung around and hammered them with that shotgun? __**Exact**__ same look, I kid you not._

_Anyway, I really hope you're doing well. I don't hear from you much. Just remember, my offer/threat to drag you off of those ships still stands. Please write me as soon as you're able, I'm holed up here for a couple days and would love to hear from you._

_- Garrus_

Finishing the message to Tali, Garrus smiled and pressed the Send key. His composition minimized off of the screen as it transmitted using the nearest FTL comm buoy, and he raised his eyes to look out across the docks of Omega. From his vantage point he could see all thirty-six docks in this arm, one of three on the docking level, and he had Monteague and Sidonis in similar positions on the other two. If Jaroth came through here like Sensat's information said he would, they would know it.

Sweeping his eye over the docking area, Garrus registered no sign of Jaroth, or Eclipse, or any incoming ships for that matter. With a sigh, he sat back, leaned his head against the wall, and stared out over the neon hell of Omega. Almost daily, his team destroyed Blood Pack supply depots or attacked Blue Suns cargo transports, but Eclipse was always elusive. Instead of deterring him, however, it had only made him want Jaroth's head more. His eyes began to close of their own accord, and only the chime of his omni-tool pulled him out of impending unconsciousness. Smiling as he brought his head forward at the thought of what Tali would have to say about his message, he froze as he saw its author.

_Solana Vakarian._

A tightness gripped his chest and he touched the Accept key, the live chat springing to life in front of his eyes.

_Hey, long time no talk._ He swallowed hard as he replied.

**Yea, I've been off the grid for awhile.**

_Off the grid? I thought you were still working with C-Sec? I saw you, the human, and the quarian on the vid-screens here. How are you not some kind of hero?_

**Please, like I'd want that anyway.** **C-Sec thinks I'm too hot-headed. I had to quit to follow Shepard in the first place.**

_Was it worth it?_ The short question stuck him with a knife. Yes, it had been worth leaving C-Sec. Was it worth befriending Shepard and then watching as he died in space? Was it worth being the one left to comfort the girl who had clearly loved the bastard? He was still unsure about that after a year and a half.

**Definitely.**

_Well, I just wanted to check up on you. Things have been…rough around here._

**Why, what's wrong?**

_It's mom. She's started to…forget things. Simple, little things, but you know how she remembered __**everything**__ we ever did. I'm worried, Garrus. She's seeing a doctor right now, and they're trying her on some meds, but I don't think they're helping._

**I'm sorry. Do you need money or…**

_Do you __**have**__ money?_

**Not exactly. I'm kind of doing some charity work at the moment.**

_Well that was unexpected. Still, we don't need money, just…please keep in touch more, alright? Mom is scaring me, dad doesn't know **what** to do about it and I'm…I need you, Garrus. Please don't abandon me._

**Wouldn't dream of it, Sol. I'll write more, I promise. **His heart broke for his sister, having to be in that house without any support, and he made a mental note that this was one promise he would **not** be breaking.

_Thank you, that means a lot. I don't mean to take up your time, and…I'm proud of you. You know, for the charity thing. What kind of work is it anyway?_ He smiled and thought about telling her the truth, but knew she wouldn't take it well.

**Just cleaning up the slums.**

_Well good luck. And keep your rifle clean. You know dad would want me to say that. _He laughed aloud, perhaps his sister was more perceptive than he gave her credit for.

**Will do, boss. Stay safe.**

_You too. Talk to you soon?_

**Count on it.**

The transmission cut out, and he lowered his omni-tool, a satisfied smile on his face. The expression soon turned to one of terror as he realized subconsciously what he had missed. Throwing himself forward onto his stomach again, he sighted down the scope. Jaroth's shuttle had landed, and the salarian was already out and walking down the aisle between ship docking arms. Muttering a string of curses, Garrus fired up his comm link.

"Two-Six and Delta-Two, this is Delta-Four, target in sight but no shot available, he's approaching the terminal hub now." Sidonis' low voice replied first.

"_Delta-Two here, I see the target. How'd you not have a shot on him, Four?"_ Garrus growled at his own inattentiveness, soft enough to not be picked up by the comm, before replying.

"Got distracted by another ship, my mistake." Monteague's chilling laugh preceded his reply.

"_Don't worry, Delta-Four. I'm moving to the hub now. Target is in sight and I've got a tail on him."_

"Copy that. If you can take him out, you've got the clearance. Just make sure you can get the hell out of there. We'll cover you, tell us which arm you run for if you take the opportunity.

"_Copy that, Delta-Four. Going silent."_

Seconds turned into minutes, and Garrus checked his comm unit no less than three times to make sure it was still operational, to make sure he hadn't muted it, but it was, and he hadn't. So he waited, sighting down the scope, mentally kicking himself for being so careless. Eventually, the silence got to him, and he opened the comm again.

"Delta-Two, have you gotten any word from Two-Six?" Sidonis' response was immediate, he must have been as on-edge as Garrus.

"_Negative, Delta-Four. No contact, it's getting me worried."_

"Same here, just keep an eye out fo—" an explosion in the transit hub made Garrus forget the rest of his sentence as his eyes shot open wide. A huge fireball could be seen through the blown-out glass windows, and people scattered out the doors, some jumping out the window frames, some on fire flailing to put it out. Garrus was on his feet in an instant, folding the rifle as he ran for the access ladder on the side of the building

"Delta-Two, fall out! Rendezvous at base! Get out now!" Sidonis hesitated, wanting to help, but grudgingly acquiesced.

"_Copy, Delta-Four, falling back to base_."

"Two-Six, do you read me? Two-Six? **Monteague,** where the **fuck** are you?" Reaching the terminal hub, Garrus leaped in through one of the broken windows to avoid the still continuous flow of people streaming out the doors, and immediately covered his face with a three-fingered hand. The smoke was acrid and brutal on his lungs, and he kept low as he searched around. The terminal hub was a large, circular room, no other floors to check.

"Monteague!" Garrus called out above the calamity. A few seconds later, in response, he heard gunfire to his left. Peering through the smoke, he could make out a human body, prone on the ground, raising a submachine gun and firing it into the ceiling above in short bursts. Garrus sprinted for the body, sliding on his knee plates to reach the man and immediately checking his injuries. The entire left side of Monteague's body was a mass of burns, scorched cloth, and boiling skin, but the man had a cool head regardless. Bewildered, Garrus wondered how he held off that much pain.

"It wasn't him, Archangel," to his credit, the man whispered the last word. "He was dressed like Jaroth, but it was a decoy; bet you my next five drinks they planted that leak for Sensat to find." He coughed, and blood stained his lower lip, never a good sign. "Fucker had about eighty tons of explosives strapped to himself. As soon as I closed for the kill…_boom_." He gestured an explosion with his hands, and laughed a bit, more blood coming up. "Erash would have been damn proud of the bastard." Looking around, Garrus saw a group of three Eclipse-armored mercs come in through the far door. They hadn't noticed them yet. Looking back down at his teammate, an ounce of pity entered his voice.

"I'm sorry, Monteague," the human looked him in the eyes and nodded.

"I knew the risks, Archangel. You get out of here, give 'em hell for me." Garrus shook his head slowly, allowing a small smile onto his lips.

"No, not for that," Monteague's eyes widened as he realized a second too late what was about to happen. "For this." Garrus turned, throwing a flashbang right at the feet of the mercs. As soon as it detonated, he reached down and heaved Monteague over his shoulder, the human growling loudly in pain as his charred left side rubbed against Garrus' heavy turian armor. Partner in tow, Garrus sprinted for the main door and tore off down the only road that led away from the transit hub. To his credit, Monteague tried to stifle the cries and groans he made as they ran, and Garrus soon found himself approaching their barricade again. The door swung open when Sidonis identified them, and Krul came rushing out, taking Monteague from him more gently than Garrus had ever seen a krogan handle…well anything.

Nodding his thanks, Garrus walked back into the base behind them, exhausted. Taking a seat on the couch, he looked across to see Sensat sitting on the other, his fingers intertwining with nervousness. The gesture brought a smile to Garrus' weary face as the salarian spoke.

"I…I'm sorry, Archangel. Sidonis told me what happened; there…there must have been some planted information. We're usually so careful…I don't know how this happened." Garrus had originally smiled as the salarian had told him almost exactly what Monteague had guessed, but his smirk fell off his face at the genuine…fear?...in Sensat's voice. He leaned forward to look him in the eyes.

"It could happen to any of us, especially because we're working against Eclipse here, and more so because we know they're all working together. Don't kill yourself over this, Sensat. There's always another chance." The salarian smiled and nodded.

"Right. Always another opportunity for success," he stood to leave, "thanks again, Archangel." Garrus shook his head, laughing softly.

"Garrus."

"…Vakarian?" the response held the same shock that had been in Sidonis' voice when he had told the turian his name. He should have expected this, Sensat was an information dealer, of course he knew who Garrus Vakarian was. He laughed again, covering his face with a three-fingered hand.

"The one and only."

* * *

Sidonis sat comfortably in the sniper's perch in their base, looking down the alleyway below them and across the bridge, waiting for any sign of attack. He had been angry at first when Garrus had sent him back, but he'd understood, and quickly overcome it. Now he sat in his favorite place in the building, a clear vantage point from which to rain destruction on any would-be attackers. He had seen first Garrus, then Krul, carrying Monteague back into the building, and had winced at the sight. Eclipse had set them up, and for the first time since joining up with Garrus, it seemed like the team was on the back foot.

As he looked down the scope for any pursuers, his omni-tool chimed. Bringing his eye away from the scope, he checked his new message. It was from Verrin, his weapons contact.

_Crayne, I got the new shipment in, you should take a look and see if you like anything. Was going to pass it straight to the underground, but you buy a ton of crap from me, so thought I'd give you the once-over first. Meet me at the cargo yard, same locker as usual. I'll probably be there around 20:00 standard. –Verrin_

Sidonis smiled, and sent the reply that he'd be there. His contacts were finally paying off in the way he'd hoped. Standing, he turned to find someone to cover for him as Garrus walked in from the hallway outside.

"Hey, Sidonis, sorry about ordering you to leave, I just…had no idea what was going on, thought it best to ensure **someone** got back to spread the word." Sidonis shrugged at him as he replied.

"I understood," hesitation crept into his voice as he continued, "how's Monteague?" Garrus shook his head softly.

"It's bad, the decoy was fully strapped, it was suicide, Jaroth and the others must really want us dead. Melanis says he can patch him up but…it won't be pretty." Sidonis nodded slowly, and an uncomfortable silence fell between them. Remembering why he had stood up in the first place, and seeing an opportunity to ease the tension, he spoke up.

"Oh, I was actually about to come looking for you. My weapons contact has a new shipment in, and he's giving us the first look at it, I need to meet him in about an hour though, any way you can cover me?" Garrus nodded as he stepped forward.

"Sure, no problem. Go get us some shiny new toys." The two turians laughed and Sidonis left to meet his contact. He had been told that this next shipment would have some heavy arms in it, and he smirked as he walked towards the cargo yard, thinking maliciously to himself.

_**We'll **__have a couple surprises for __**you**__ next time, Jaroth…_


	20. Decisions

*****EDIT NOTE - 10/19/11***  
After going a few chapters ahead with this, I've gotten a few PMs from people concerned  
about Tali moving on if she'd already started the bonding path (and indeed was already in  
_hecs'tiyl_ with Shepard) before he died. According to Calinstel's work, which is essentially the  
quarian encyclopedia, a bonded quarian cannot even physically _think_ about being with another.  
And although Tali and Shepard are not fully bonded, I think that should be in effect here as well.**

**I had planned to use the "daydream" sequences in the future to bring Tali back to realizing that**  
**she'll always only love Shepard (before they meet on F.P.), but the conflict between what I've**  
**written and what Calinstel says is true is definitely causing more harm than it's worth. So I've**  
**edited this chapter, and I think it flows much better now with the rest of the work. Hope you enjoy!**

**P.S. Big thank you to RVonE for having a lengthy PM discussion with me on the merits of quarian  
bonding principles. I really appreciate you taking the time to help me out. =)**

* * *

***Author's Note***  
So I'm back to around a 30-chapter estimate here, I think 10 more after this should  
be plenty to wrap up _The Darkest Night_. This chapter was supposed to be a Tali/Wrex  
combination, but once I start writing Tali I just can't stop. Literally. The stove was boiling  
over or I wouldn't have gotten up. =P

Enjoy! And as always, thanks so much for all your reviews and adds, they're amazing. I figured  
out how to check the site traffic on my page yesterday and **HOLY CRAP**, I had no idea that many people  
were reading my stuff! =D

* * *

**Chapter 20 - Decisions**

"Get me the replacement capacitor, **now**!" Tali barked to the engineers standing behind her. One of them, startled out of his panicked stupor, ran to the storage panel and found the capacitor, rushing back to hand it to her, his hands trembling. She snatched it out of his hands with a muttered "_brainless bosh'tets"_ and deftly inserted it into the main power drive console in the _Neema_'s Engineering Bay. Her fingers moving furiously over the interface, she rerouted power subsystems and bypassed safety controls to give an extra push of power to the main engines. With a lurch, the core began to ignite again, and the turbines above their head began to rotate. Tali closed the console, regulated power levels back to normal, and stood with a heavy sigh. Activating her comm link, she contacted the bridge.

"Tali'Zorah to bridge, the capacitor blew in the main console, but I've replaced it and rerouted power transfer systems, engines are online, and everything is stable again, captain."

"_Well done, Tali'Zorah, we're lucky to have you aboard," _her captain's voice replied. The comm link cut out, and she rounded on the engineers in cold fury.

"**WHO? **Who is the _det kazuat_ that decided it would be a good idea to alter my algorithms? Hmm?" No one spoke, but she caught the shifts in body language, the slight turning towards the quarian who had handed her the capacitor. She stalked over to him, and though he stood a head taller than her, she glared up at him with fire in her eyes, and he unconsciously took a step back.

"Maeris'Vael," she scoffed, "Do you have a problem with the way I handle this Engineering Bay, that you feel the need to correct **my own** algorithms?" He started to speak in defense, but she overrode him. "If I ever, **ever** catch you trying to challenge my algorithms, or core readout test parameters, or even my **nutrient paste selections**, I will make your life in this Engineering Bay a living hell, do you understand me?" He nodded emphatically, clearly terrified of the quarian-shaped entity of pure hatred in front of him. "Get out. The rest of you as well, take your breaks early today, I can run this entire room better than all of you put together." They filed out silently, and she shook her head as she turned away, back to the core readouts.

She was still upset about her actions on the mission with Kal and his team. Two months past and she was **still** letting it get to her as if it were yesterday. Shala'Raan had told her in no uncertain terms that her unconscious desire to see both of their needs met, to not want to switch places with Shepard because he would then suffer as she did, had placed her firmly on the path of _hecs'tiyl_, second of the three paths of bonding, at the time of his death. Without her knowledge, they had moved past friendship, even past the flirtatious curiosity she had expressed before the attack on the Normandy. She had truly cared for him; Shala had said it was evident. Is that why it hurt so much, even still, to think about what she'd lost? To think about what they'd be up to if he were still around?

Her fingers stopped. What they'd be up to? She'd have come back to the Fleet, finished her Pilgrimage. Wouldn't she? She tried, and failed, to contain a sharp gasp as she realized the truth, uttering it aloud unconsciously.

"I wouldn't have come back…"

"Well with the way you talk about him, who could blame you?" The gruff, familiar voice called from behind her. She spun in surprise to see Kal leaning against the bulkhead, arms crossed over his chest. She relaxed, but still crossed her arms in indignation as she replied.

"Checking up on me? Wondering if I'm still a liability?" He physically started when she said the words, and she immediately regretted letting her anger get the best of her.

"N-no…I mean yes, I was checking up on you, ma'am, but I'm not…I don't mean to imply…" she took a few steps towards him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"No, I'm sorry Kal, I shouldn't have said that. It's just been…crazy around here lately. I don't know where all these idiots are getting their training, but it can't be the same Fleet Academy I attended. It simply cannot be." He laughed as he replied.

"I hear you on that, ma'am. Half the new recruits I've seen coming into the ranks barely know which end of a rifle the pain comes out of, much less how to use it." They shared a laugh that led into an awkward silence, and she turned back to her console to keep working as she spoke.

"So, you were checking up on me?"

"Yea, I wanted to make sure you were ok, it's been awhile, but after what happened planet-side with Tarel'Venn, and the crying in the shuttle on the way back here…" he surprised her again, and she spun around to face him once more.

"I…I had my audio emitters disabled…"

"Noticed that, ma'am," he said. She considered asking if he'd told anyone, and then thought better of it. Kal wouldn't betray her personal feelings like that. As if reading her mind, he continued. "I haven't spoken to anyone about it, but I've seen the effects of losing a lifemate. Not saying that Captain Shepard was yours, just that…I've seen a lot of pain, and if you need anyone to talk to…well I'm here." Uncertainty, and a large amount of compassion, laced his voice, and for a second Tali thought…no. That wasn't possible, Kal had quickly become her best friend on the Flotilla, but they were simply that. Great teammates, great friends. She nodded slowly, convinced by his genuine sincerity and concern for her.

"That...that might be nice, Kal. I really...don't like to, well, **haven't** talked to anyone about it really, um except for Aunt- ah, Admiral Raan." Her words came slowly, and in pieces, as if just the thought of discussing her loss with someone would bring it all back full force. She felt as if there were a great dam inside her, trying to hold back the whole of the _Raalz'Jel rium_ as she struggled to keep her sorrow from spilling forth. To his credit, he didn't pry, or ask painful questions, he simply nodded, a slow nod of understanding. As if he could hear her unspoken words, and her his: that she would speak with him when she was ready, and that that was more than enough for him.

"Admiral Raan? Well, I had heard you two were close, though she seems like there's some fire hidden in that suit. Always made a point to not get on her bad side, if you understand me." His feigned terror at the thought of the most caring person she knew made her laugh, a short, spurting sound. He tilted his head, smiling in return, and she looked up to him. "Ah, laughing now are we? Well that's an improvement." Her heart leaped into her throat at the words.

_She steps into the mess, still uneasy, still uncertain. It's been a week since she set foot on the Normandy, and already she was wondering if she'd made a terrible mistake. Shepard had been very kind to her, very welcoming. And for all his misguided views about her people, even the turian had been welcoming as well. Still, she sees the looks the crew give her as they past, when they think they're beyond her peripheral vision. She hears their whispers, when they think her audio pickups won't feed her their conversations. She feels completely alone, unwanted._

_Sighing, she sits at the mess table, looking once more at the tube of nutrient paste she'd procured from the stock area. Bland, flavorless, barely enough to survive on. But she had been trained for this, she had known when she left the Flotilla that it wouldn't be easy. Still, she can't help but let the other worries of her life influence this area too, and so instead of eating her meal, she simply stares at it. She doesn't notice him approach, doesn't notice him set his tray down, doesn't even notice him watching her from inches away until he speaks._

_"Can...can you eat it with your eyes?" his voice startles her out of her analyzing, and she gasps, sitting straight up. But in an instant her brain recognizes the patterns in his voice. Humor. Sarcasm. And a hint of concern. For not having to wear suits, humans' voices and tonal patterns were remarkably expressive. She sets the tube down on the table, crossing her arms as she regards him._

_"No, unfortunately. If that were the case, I wouldn't be bound to this paste, now would I?" He leans back, hurt? She chides herself for letting her sour mood hurt his own. She watches him, unsure of what to say to make things right, as he stares down at his plate. After a long moment, he nods, looking back up to her before picking up his tray and walking over to the supply area of the mess._

Keelah, Tali'Zorah, you've done it now,_ she thinks reproachfully to herself_. You've offended him when all he was trying to do was talk with you. You'll be off the ship at the next stop for s-"_ Her thoughts are interrupted by loud crashing and a few words her translator can't handle, she assumes they are human curses. Looking over, she sees him, knee up on the food prep counter, reaching high and above into a remote area of the storage lockers_. _With a triumphant _"Ha! Gotcha!" _he descends once again, placing a strange device on the counter. It has a square black base, a tall clear cylindrical body, and...blades in the bottom? What is this...easily dangerous device? As if reading her thoughts, he glances over to her and grins._

_Picking up his tray, he dumps all of it into the cylinder. She gasps at the wastefulness he exhibits, and thinks of stepping up to stop him, but something...some feeling that he's trying to show her something, keeps her in place. Setting the tray aside, he places a black cap on the device and presses a button. The machine roars to life, and she jumps a little, but watches silently as all the different food items he dumped in are mixed together, combined and congealed into a...her eyes widen...paste. The machine cuts off, and he appraises his work. Nodding, seemingly satisfied, he pours the mixture into a glass and walks back over to the table, sitting in front of her once again. He's holding her gaze, and her mouth works frantically, trying to say...anything. He doesn't have to do this, just because she has to doesn't mean he does, that's probably going to taste disgusting; all of these things she'd like to say, but she can't make any of them come out. Before she can complete a thought, he raises the glass to her and smiles._

_"Here's to your health, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya." He leans back and tips the contents of the glass into his mouth, placing it back empty on the table with a soft _thud._ As she watches his face, his cheeks puffed out with a mouthful of this ridiculous concoction, she feels a smile come to her face for the first time in a long time. His eyes narrow as he tastes the mixture, looking left, then right, and finally upwards to the ceiling. She sees...tears?...start to form in his eyes, and he swallows the whole mouthful in one large gulp. Wiping his eyes with his finger, he looks back to her, chuckling. "Wow..." he says, "**that**...was really disgusting..."_

_She bursts into laughter at the foolish human who would do this to himself just to see her day brighten. Clutching her stomach, she laughs harder than she has since she was a child, and he is smiling as he watches her. She slowly calms down from her calamitous fit, and raises her eyes to meet his, a smile still playing across her lips, as he speaks._

_"Ah, laughing now, are we? Well, that's an improvement." He stands to go get a drink of water, begins to clean the device when he finishes drinking it. She smiles the whole time she watches him, even walking over to examine the device while he cleans it. As he points out all its functioning parts, she's only halfway looking at the _blender_, as he calls it. More often than not, she's looking at him, the smile still on her face.  
_

With a start, Tali's mind came back to reality. Kal stood in front of her, his head slightly tilted in concern. _Keelah, how long have I been daydreaming _this_ time?_ Her memories of Shepard kept him alive in her mind, but they also kept distracting her from her tasks, from her missions. She needed to talk to someone besides Auntie Raan, someone who could give her a real perspective on dealing with loss...who else better than a marine? A marine who cared about her well-being, at that._  
_

"Kal, I...I would really appreciate you talking to me about...about him. Do you want to meet in one of the observation decks later?" He nodded, clearly happy to assist her in any way he could.

"Yea, I can do that. I've got patrol until the start of third shift, but I can be there afterwards." She smiled under her helmet.

"Alright, sounds good. I'll meet you there." As he left, she turned back to her console. But she wasn't thinking about work. She was thinking about Shepard, and about the blender, smiling the whole time. When her team hesitantly walked back into the Engineering Bay, she was certainly in a much better mood.

* * *

Tali stood looking out the observation window. At times, she still felt the sorrow she had in her first few weeks back in the Fleet, still looked out into space and wondered how painful it had been for John to die there. She had those feelings now, and small tears rolled silently down her cheeks as she stood. There was no sobbing, no sniffling or shaking, just small, silent tears for the man she'd lost what felt like a lifetime ago. She stood alone, but turned when she heard a soft _ahem_ behind her. She had been planning what to say in this meeting, and maybe she should sta—

Her mind stopped working as she saw not Kal'Reegar standing behind her, but Maeris'Vael. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and he stood tall, looking down into her visor. When he spoke however, his voice was laden with nervousness.

"Tali'Zorah, I wanted to apologize for earlier, you deserve to know the truth about what happened and I am a bit ashamed to admit that at the time I was…well I was too terrified to think or speak clearly. If I could have a moment of your time now, ma'am I would like to explain myself." She had fallen into a folded-arm skeptical stance when she'd first seen who it was, but his words, his voice; he was **still** terrified to be in her presence. She relaxed her stance and nodded. He released a heavy sigh before speaking.

"I am the first of my family line to ever become an engineer. My father, mother, and grandfather were all soldiers, not that I discredit them, to serve the Fleet in battle is a great honor, and I love my parents very much." Tali felt a sting of jealousy but refused to let it show. "I want my family to be proud of the work I do for the Fleet, but have come to realize that unless I become an exceptional engineer, my father will always look at me and wonder what more I could have done in the marines."

"To that end, I've been looking at all your algorithms and drive calculations for the past six or seven months. Your methods are…unorthodox, but extremely efficient, and powerful. I don't know how or when you devised all the power transfer schemes and core bleed control scripts you utilize, but when I first saw them I was completely blown away. They teach us the basics in the Academy, but the actions and programs I've seen you use are...above and beyond." He took a deep breath and continued his explanation.

"I decided to model myself after you. So every day I would find a piece of script or specific power scheme you had devised, and copy it to my omni-tool. When I got home, before I went to sleep, I'd study it, try to devise how you got the idea for it, and how it works. For months I did this flawlessly, only earlier today…instead of copying the code, I accidentally erased it from the systems. The core went crazy, I panicked and tried to rewrite it from memory but…well you see how that turned out…" he trailed off and stared at the floor.

Tali was shocked. She had been so cruel to him and all this time he had been…trying to imitate **her**. She stepped forward and he looked into her visor again.

"Maeris, I-," she began, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"No, Tali'Zorah. You were right to be angry, I put the entire ship in danger to fulfill a selfish desire to prove my worth. You don't have to worry about it anymore, I've formally tendered a resignation from the Engineering team and plan to go to the marines like my parents want." He opened his omni-tool and held it out to her. "As my chief lead in Engineering, all it needs is your approval, ma'am." She looked him in the eyes and saw nothing but defeat. He was giving away everything he wanted because of a single mistake, and she would not allow it.

"I'm not approving that request, Maeris'Vael, so you can take your omni-tool out of my face at any time." He pulled it back quickly and she crossed her arms in mock annoyance. "If you want to study my algorithms I'd be happy to give them to you off of my omni-tool instead of the ship's main console. It's far less dangerous to acquire them that way." He heard the sarcasm in her voice and tilted his head in a small smile before responding meekly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"'Yes ma'am' is damn right," she continued, "You're not leaving **my** Engineering Bay unless I throw you out myself."

"And don't kid yourself, I've seen her throw quarians," Kal'Reegar added as he approached from a hallway door. "You'll know it when it happens." She shared a laugh with him before turning back to Maeris and speaking quietly.

"I know what it's like to seek approval that never seems to come. You should have just come and spoken to me about it. Tomorrow we'll go over the main power transfer system together, alright?" He nodded eagerly, then gave a sharp salute to Kal before turning to leave. She and Kal watched his back as he walked away.

"Nice kid, took a lot of guts to come talk to the legendary Tali'Zorah vas Neema." He looked over at her with a tilt of his head, and she snorted.

"Legendary, right. How was patrol?"

"Quiet as usual, gave me a lot of time to think about your situation." She arched an eyebrow as she turned to him, the gesture hidden behind her mask. He gestured to the viewport and they walked towards it together, looking out into the inky black.

"When I lose a team member on a mission, it hurts," he began softly, "but I can't let it impact me while I'm on the mission. So I take that person, their memory, and push it into a corner of my mind. I don't forget them, I **never** forget them, I just give a small piece of my mind to remembering them, so I can still focus on the mission at hand. When I get home, while I'm cleaning my rifle, I bring them back to the front of my mind, honor them properly. That's when I write all my condolence messages." He looked back out into space, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head before turning back to her.

"Cut that out, **I'm **trying to help** you** out here, ma'am," she smiled gently and removed her hand as he continued. "With Shepard…I don't know if the pain of losing someone you start bonding with will ever truly fade, but if you can keep him in the back of your head, let his memory know it has a permanent place in your mind, maybe it will let you focus on things at hand a little clearer, not be reminded of him so often, move on a little easier…" he trailed off and shrugged. "That's all I came up with in three hours." She smiled under her visor.

"Maybe you're right, Kal. I appreciate you talking to me about it." He simply nodded.

"I hope you're feeling up to working again," he said, holding up a datapad. "Just got the message from Admiral Gerrel on the way over here, we're out for more recon. Though probably more planet scanning and less geth this time, I think." She laughed, and his eyes revealed the smile under his visor as well.

* * *

That night, Tali lay on her sleeping mat, staring at the ceiling again. She pulled up her omni-tool, flipping through the files until she got to the picture of the three of them. With a start she remembered she needed to reply to Garrus' message she'd gotten earlier in the day. She would do it first thing in the morning, she decided, flipping past the picture and on to the audio recording she both hated and cherished. She pressed play for what she decided would be the last time. The _hiss_ of decompression filled her quarters, filled her empty soul.

_"T-Tali…I'm sorry. I beat around the bush too long…I tried to justify it away, tell myself…tell myself that you were just going to leave soon and I'd…have to give it all up anyway. But I…I can't die without you knowing. Hopefully you can…crack my box password, you taught me the word after all…I'm crazy about you, Tali'Zorah. Have been since…since we found you in that back alley on the Cit-…Citadel. I always felt happy around you, happy and calm…Want…want you…to be…happy, too…"_

She turned the recording off before it had a chance to finish itself out, and permanently deleted the file.

"I'm not, John, _Keelah_ I'm not," she spoke into the darkness, "but someday I will be."

* * *

**Det kazuat: ** Term of curse, considered especially crude. Literal Translation: Living sack of excrement. The Otquer, a large predatory lizard, will pass its meal neatly wrapped in a membranous tissue. Inside the sack, the enzymes used to break down the meat of the prey while still in the lizard continue to act as a stimulant keeping the indigestible brain synapses of its last meal still working until the sun dries the sack out. (Source: _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)

**Hecs'tiyl:** Term of courtship. Literal translation: Pathway to the heart. Second of three: Signifying the period where the needs of both begin to overrule the needs of self. Almost always leads to bonding though this phase is usually the longest of the three. (Source: _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)

**Raalz'Jel rium:** Term used to describe the 137 year cycle of torrential rains. Literal translation: Tears of the Vanquished ones. Ancient quarians believed the rains were attacks from all their fallen enemies trying to wash away the victors. Later, it was known that due to the orbital path of Rannoch, that ever 137 years, the planet was just a bit closer to the sun. When that happened, the shallow seas absorbed more heat and released it into the skies as water vapor all summer long. As winter came, the supersaturated higher air released its burden in torrential rains across the planet. The rivers, swelled with the massive inflow of water, rising well above their banks. Waters as high as 6 meters had been recorded but this was dependent on the valley. Omxa, with its 5 meter high bases, indicated waters never exceeded the 4 meter mark. In a valley 3 kilometers wide, that was still a lot of water.


	21. Innocence

***Author's Note***  
This chapter, out of every one I've written so far, really resonated with me the most when  
I was finished. There were parts of it that I dreaded having to write as I neared them, and  
by the end I felt physically drained. The game mentions Mindoir on a couple of occasions,  
but I never felt they did justice to exactly what Shepard lost on that colony world. I just hope  
I have.

Enjoy, and as always, thanks for the reviews and adds, they mean a lot to me.

* * *

**Chapter 21 – Innocence**

He stands at the metal fence, leaning against it and looking out over the fields of wheat swaying gently in the evening wind. The sun sets in the distance, a red-orange sphere that seems so close he could fall into it if he walked towards it long enough. He chews absent-mindedly on the stick of gum he'd unwrapped five hours ago, ignoring the fact that it's lost all taste as he wonders if there's any habitable planet in the galaxy on which wheat **won't** grow. The thought makes him pause; none that he knows of. Then again, he thinks with a sigh, looking past the setting sun and into the stars of the Traverse beyond, he's only been on one.

He brushes a piece of hair out from in front of his face; his father was always on him to cut it, but he liked his shoulder-length hair, it reminded him of the difference between himself and his brother, and he had vowed to keep it to the day he died. As if summoned by the very mention of him in thought, Alex calls to him from behind.

"Hey, space-for-brains, mom called you for dinner like half an hour ago!" He turns to see his brother walking through the tall grass towards him, and though he had insulted him, a smile played across his face, one that John couldn't help returning. He had always been close to Alex, they were best friends and they knew it. He turned for one last glance at the wind-blown wheat, his favorite sight in the universe, and then moved to meet his brother, punching him in the arm as they closed.

"Owwwww," Alex moaned, feigning injury and rubbing over-dramatically at his bicep. "I need those for picking up the ladies, Johnny-boy!" John just shook his head and laughed as they walked back towards the house. Though only twelve minutes his elder, Alex always called him 'boy' or 'kid', anything to get under his brother's skin. John was in too good a mood today though, his father had declared the wheat crop ready to harvest, and John had wanted to see it sway in the breeze one more time before they cut it all down until next season.

"Oh yea? And just which ladies are those?" His brother leaps to answer, he's baited John into asking.

"Anya Voss, that's 'which ladies'!" John's jaw almost hits the floor. The smartest, most popular girl in their class, and she's interested in **Alex**? He laughs, genuinely impressed at his brother's tenacity, and claps him on the arm as he responds.

"Well if she wanted a date with you before I destroyed your bicep, I think you'll manage afterward." Alex laughs but swings his arm in mock paralysis the entire walk home, and John is in tears when they approach the door of the medium-sized prefab in which they live. Their mother is already sitting at the table, and her glare at the boys is quickly turned into a smile and a slow head-shaking when John flashes her his winning smile.

"Come on, then," she calls to her boys, who sit at the table as their father walks in from the bedroom. His hair is wet, and he's wearing a fresh set of clothes, recently showered. Kissing his wife on the top of her head as he passes, he sits across from the boys, and they start to eat.

Father talks about the harvest, and John nods eagerly as he agrees to help the man in any way he can. Alex stirs his potatoes idly, mind elsewhere, and John's father smiles back at him, clearly proud of the boy who wants to help. John drinks it in, he idolizes his father. He is a kind, loving man, quick to comfort, slow to anger, and when he grows up he wants to be just like him. On nights when he lies in bed awake, frustrated a concept he doesn't understand in school or his latest relationship failure, he comforts himself by thinking to the future, promising himself he will look after his mother and father, see them comfortable and provide for them as they have for him. This thought warms his heart, and he always sleeps peacefully after thinking it.

After dinner, he and Alex walk outside into the darkening evening to lay on the grass. The sun has just dipped below the horizon, and everything is bathed in the indigo of twilight. They lay on their backs and look up at the stars. Alex speaks first.

"I want to see them, John." Mystery and anticipation comingle in his words. "I want to see all of them, meet aliens, explore the galaxy. Don't you ever want that?" John smiles, this conversation comes up at least once a month. He continues to stare into the night sky as he answers.

"Sure, I mean who doesn't? Travel the stars, meet cute alien girls," his brother jabs him in the ribs with his elbow and a knowing grin, and he laughs, then continues, "but I like it here. I love helping dad with the crops, I like the quiet evenings…" he trails off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Unfortunately, he is his brother's sibling, and the man knows him far too well. Well enough to finish his sentence for him, in fact.

"…you like Amy Keegan," he grins wickedly and narrowly rolls away to avoid John's punch. Rocking back into his original position with a laugh, he looks his brother in the eye.

"I'm going there one day, John. Dad thinks I'm no good at the farming game and he's right. But I've been working my ass off to make the cut for the Alliance recruiters. If I can get in there…I can go anywhere." His voice fills with wanderlust again as he gazes back into the sky.

John is looking at the stars as well, but he's too busy thinking about Amy to picture his brother in Alliance blues. Her soft brown hair, her knowing green eyes, her delicate three-fingered hands. _Wait, what?_ he thinks to himself. He shakes his head, and the image disappears. _What the hell was that_? His brother looks over at him and smiles.

"Dreaming about Amy again, eh? Well can't say I blame you, she's pretty hot," another punch misses its mark as he deftly rolls away, flattening the grass below them. "Look Johnny seriously, if you want to stay here, that's…well that's cool. I'm glad you like it here. Me…I just hope there's a spot for me in the Alliance, cause I feel cooped up here." John nods, he knows how Alex feels, and he knows his brother will make the Alliance. They both do; though the Alliance rarely recruits in colonial space, the Traverse is close enough to home and the Citadel to be worth trying, and they do get a good handful of recruits. If Alex wants a spot, and has four working limbs plus a functioning brain, he's got it.

"Alex, John, come on inside!" Their father calls from the doorframe, and they both make to stand. Alex gets up first, then reaches down an arm to his brother. John grasps it, and for a second it too is a three-fingered hand, clad in soft black enviro-suit. He follows the attached arm back to a soft purple mask, and though he can't see it, he just **knows** that a warm smile lies beneath it. As quickly as it came, the image is gone, and Alex is back, smiling at him as he lifts John to his feet.

"Come on, you heard dad." They walk together back to the pre-fab._  
_

"Alex," their father starts as they approach, "I need to speak to you in private…about your future, son." Alex gives John a knowing look. His father had purchased a rifle before coming out to the Traverse, "just in case," he had always said, and Alex had hoped he would inherit it from the second he made it clear he wanted to join the Alliance. John clapped him on the shoulder and walked past him into the house. His mother approached him as he entered the dining room.

"John, you have a visitor at the front door," she said with a smile. He nodded to her and stepped out onto the front porch, not looking fast enough to see the girl in the soft blue dress embrace him in a surprise hug. He squeezes her back and then holds her at arm's length, this girl he's crazy for. Even through her purple visor, he can see the eyes he loves to stare into. _Wait…_ The image fades again, and Amy's soft skin and piercing green eyes regard him as she smiles.

"It's late," he starts, an air of suspicion in his voice.

"I know, space-for-brains," she says as she slaps him harmlessly on the chest. He rubs it and smiles as he responds.

"Alex beat you to that insult today, _darling_," she grins and leans forward to kiss him, then takes his hand in hers and moves off the porch.

"Come on," she says, just above a whisper. He follows her willingly, he'd follow her anywhere, but continuously looks back over his shoulder to make sure he's not seen. He isn't. She leads him past the rows of prefab units and weaves between them, before they arrive at her own. He looks at her quizzically, and she giggles.

"My parents left today, they're off-world, visiting my grandma back on Earth. Told me to hold down the fort, but it's a lot to hold down by my lonesome…" she trails off, looking at him with suggestive eyes, and he smiles back down at her, opening the door and gesturing her in as she steps inside, never taking her eyes off of his. As soon as she clears the door, she grabs the front of his shirt in a balled fist, pulling him in and touching the access panel to lock it behind them.

The next few moments are a blur. She's ripping his shirt off. In her haste she takes a button off of it. He curses, she tells him to shut up and kiss her, he does. Seconds fly past, she's running her fingers across his chest, he's pushing her dress up and pulling down her underwear. As soon as they hit the floor she stops, holding him at arm's length, and for the first time he sees fear in her eyes. This beautiful, vibrant, wonderful girl, is afraid of what's about to happen. He smiles softly, cupping her face in his hands, and leans forward to kiss her, a long and passionate ordeal. When he pulls away, she steps forward from her leaning position on the wall and delicately takes his hand, leading him to her room.

They stand at the foot of her bed and he places his hands on her waist. She smiles up at him and sits down, crawling backwards onto the bed and gazing at him to follow. He strips off the rest of his clothes, and she blushes when she looks upon him for the first time, unconsciously biting her lower lip as he crawls into her bed over top of her. His face is inches from hers, and she reaches her head up to delicately peck his neck with kisses. He whispers.

"I…I haven't really…well, ever…" she laughs softly, and it's his turn to blush, but she places a hand on the side of his cheek, and smiles at him lovingly.

"Neither have I, John." He visibly relaxes, and nods to her, returning her smile. She kisses his lips, and he presses down softly to lay her back against the sheets as he moves inside her. She stifles a gasp, and he resists the urge to ask her if she's alright. His eyes say it for him, though, and she smiles breathlessly. "Don't stop, idiot." He smiles and nods nervously and moves slowly within her, her hips rocking into his. She sighs and moans as often as she cries out in pain or digs her nails into his back, and he doesn't even think of himself as he kisses her neck. Her hand runs through his hair, and he loves the feeling.

Something stirs within him, something primal, something animalistic. His movements go deeper, his passion rising as he feels himself begin to climax. Her eyes are closed, and she bites her lower lip again, but wraps her legs around his own and moans in concert with him. He picks up speed, and her hands come off of him, gripping the bedsheets as she writhes beneath him. Her breathing quickens, and just as he thinks he's about to finish, she climaxes, arching her back and yelling so loud he looks to her window and wonders if the neighbors hear.

"Oh, _Keelah_, John!"

_What?_ He looks down and sees her, the woman he cares so much for. Her enviro-suit fits so snugly that he can see the heaving of her chest as she relaxes, and though her visor hides her facial expressions, he'd bet everything he owns that her eyes are closed, a smile across her face. He smiles before thinking about it, and by the time he looks back the image is gone. Amy's body lies underneath his, her chest heaving with heavy breathing. He leans back down, rolling off of her to the side and kissing her down her neck, she puts her hand back in his hair, and he is completely content, holding her until they fall asleep.

* * *

John bolts awake to the strange sounds, leaping from the bed and getting his clothes on in a rush. Gunfire. Screaming. He shakes her awake and she groggily sits up before snapping to attention at the sounds. She looks at him, panic in her eyes, and he takes her hand, running for the door. It opens before he can reach it, and the most terrifying thing he's ever seen walks in. Larger head, four eyes, sharp teeth, it smiles wickedly and raises an electrical prod. John's been in enough fights to know his opponent is overconfident. He pushes Amy behind him and steps up to challenge the monster. It laughs, a short, sadistic noise, and lunges forward. John sidesteps, twisting the prod out of the thing's hands and kicking it in the kneecap in one fluid motion. It falls, and he viciously stabs the prod into the back of its neck. It twitches for a few seconds and then lies still. Looking around the body, John takes the pistol at its hip and activates it, trying to remember in seconds everything Alex has taught him about firearms. Extending his hand to Amy again, she takes it and he leads the way out of the door.

They step out into Hell. Everywhere around them the monsters are killing or shocking people, implanting their skulls with some kind of chip and stuffing them into transport containers as they scream. He wants to vomit, but there's no time. Clutching her hand, he sprints across the main area, moving fast to avoid detection from the preoccupied monsters. They reach his house quickly, but the door is locked. Amy rushes to it, and begins entering the failsafe sequence. He covers her, looking around and allowing himself a small smile. He'd taught her the code so she could sneak in and spend the night next to him when her father had been drinking again, who knew it would save their lives tonight?

He's not looking at the door, he's looking out at the yard, and so the only evidence he has that something is wrong are three short sounds. The _woosh_ of the opening door, the sharp _crack _of the gunshot, and her surprised whimper of pain. He swings his head around and sees her clutching her stomach, falling to the floor as his gaze moves into his home. Another monster stands, and is already aiming the smoking weapon at John, grinning wickedly. He has every advantage; time, training, probably a better weapon.

John has rage.

He lunges forward, going into a roll to dodge the shot that instead flies out the doorway, and comes up swinging. His first punch catches the monster in the face, loosing teeth. The second strike, his left elbow, crushes in two of his four hideous eyes, and the third, a balled fist to the throat, sends the target to his knees, grasping desperately at his collapsed larynx. John takes the monster's own gun from him and coldly unloads a round into the thing's head. He follows it with two more before dropping the gun and running back to the door. Amy reaches for him, trembling, and he takes her hand, frantically searching around for a cloth or medicine or…**anything**. She laughs, a small quiet noise, and his attention goes back to her face.

"I just…" she begins, and he leans forward, kissing her forehead and gripping her hand so tight he's afraid he's breaking it. She brings her free hand up to stroke his cheek, and he leans into it with his face, tears openly flowing from his eyes. "I just…wanted you, John. I'm...I'm happy, darling." She smiles at him, and sobs escape him as her eyes glaze over, her hand slowly sliding down from his cheek. Minutes pass as he holds her body, and the sounds of increased gunfire erupt from outside the prefab, but he doesn't notice it. He also doesn't notice the blue engine flares of the Alliance dropships bringing in reinforcements, or the orange flares of the monsters' ships taking off with their sick cargo.

After what feels like an entire lifetime, he lets her body go softly to the floor, and checks the other rooms. In one, his mother, bullet holes in her chest. Her father is not far away, in a similar state. Their hands are locked together, fingers intertwined. They died as one. He will never forget this image as long as he lives. Hoping beyond hope, he follows the trail of carnage to Alex's room, and swallows hard before opening the panel. Alex lays prone in front of his bed, the rifle inches away. He's taken one bullet, clean through the head, and he lies in a pool of his own blood. John steps forward and kneels before his brother's body, placing a hand on his warm, sticky head and crying.

Minutes pass again, and John has lost all emotion. He robotically picks up the rifle from beside his brother's corpse, staining the handle with the blood on his hands as he hefts it, and walks back to the room where his parents have died. He takes the small beaded necklace from around his father's neck, and clasps it around his own. His mother had made it for him, and he would not die without something of theirs in his possession. He **was** the Shepard family now, and Shepard's didn't go down without a fight.

Over his shoulder he hears the sound of someone hacking their door. Eyes holding fire, death in his hands, he moves to stand right in front of it. He looks down at her again, her three—no, five-fingered hands laying to either side of her body, and he cries silently. He will die beside her. But he's going to kill them all **first**. The door opens with a soft _woosh_, and he unloads, staring into the face of the mons—they're not monsters. He releases the trigger as the bullets bounce off the Alliance soldier's kinetic barriers. The blue shield shatters, and a tense moment passes before the soldier reaches forward calmly.

"Come on, son, put down the gun. It's alright, they're all gone now, we got here as quick as we could." John's hands shake. No, this isn't happening. **Now**? They're here **now**? The rifle clatters to the floor, and the soldier moves forward to catch John as he falls forward. "Easy there, lad, easy there. Come on, come with me, we're gettin' you out of here."

Numbly he follows, his feet moving only because they know how to on their own after sixteen years of learning. The soldier leads him to a shuttle, the shuttle leads him to a ship, the ship's crew lead him to his quarters. No one knows where they'll take him; he doesn't know where he wants to go. They ask if he has family, he stares them in the eye until they apologize and leave. Third shift comes, and the lights go out. He lies wide awake in the darkness, staring at the wall. All he can see are their faces, faces that will haunt him for years to come. Sleep comes for him, and before he sleeps he wonders what her face looked like behind that purple visor…

* * *

Shepard opens his eyes, he's back in the void. He wants to slam his fist against something, anything, but nothing is here. Raging, unable to strike out at something, he collapses into sobbing. He wants to be glad that he's going to be back soon, glad that he's going to be able to see Tali again. He obviously cares for her if his ever-shifting dream was any indication, but at this point, here and now, all he can do is sob.

And so Commander John Shepard, Hero of the Citadel, clutched himself in his own arms, floating in the void, and cried uncontrollably for his family.

His family, and Amy Keegan.


	22. The Lesser of Three Evils

***Author's Note***  
For anyone who reads this chapter and feels sad about Joker/Lia, fear not. I definitely  
plan to continue them into _For We Are Many_. This chapter, for me anyway, really begins  
the emotional downward slide towards all the climaxes of _The Darkest Night_, and if my planning file  
remains unaltered, which will probably be the case, we're looking at a total of **31 **chapters  
(plus an Epilogue). The story's in the final stretch, expect frequent updates as I frantically  
write it all!

As **always**, thanks to everyone for the reviews, you are literary-critiquing super-heroes! Seriously,  
go out and buy capes! And maybe a domino mask or two. =D

* * *

**Chapter 22 – The Lesser of Three Evils**

Sidonis walked calmly down the Omega street that eventually wound its way to the cargo yard, wondering what could be in those new containers Verrin had procured. Heavy weapons to be sure, but what types? His mind worked feverishly to divine what would be in them, and he was damn close to whistling as he walked into the yard. Following the signs, though not particularly needing them as he'd been here many times before, he found his way to locker 490, an unobtrusive locker in the middle of a long row.

Looking around, he saw no sign of Verrin's presence, and so pulled up his omni-tool and checked the news feeds for any signs of what had happened at the transportation hub. Sure enough, it was everywhere. Some called it gang warfare, most called it a terrorist attack, and some even implicated Archangel and his team. Sidonis frowned angrily; they were trying to clean up this hell-hole and people wanted to blame something like this on **them**?

"Crayne, hey," Verrin called, pulling Sidonis out of his thoughts with his fake name. The stocky human jogged over to him, and Sidonis stepped forward with a smile.

"I appreciate you letting me take an early look at this stuff," he said, extending a hand which Verrin took in a firm shake.

"Hey no problem, besides, I'm not about to turn down the extra credits you offer just to get it to the market faster. I'm no saint here." He laughed, and Sidonis couldn't help but chuckle with him as the human stepped forward, swiping his card on the access panel and waiting for the door to retract.

Crates lined the walls, but he'd seen most of them here before. The new ones, however, were three Alliance military-grade weapons cache containers, sitting side-by-side on the floor. Sidonis crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Verrin.

"Alliance-grade, huh?" The human grinned wickedly as he looked over at him, clearly proud of his work.

"Hey I take it where I can get it, Crayne." Shaking his head while smiling, Sidonis stepped forward and opened the first cache, wondering what was inside.

The crate was empty.

"Verrin, this cache is em—" the sucker punch caught him in the back of the head, and his body flew forward, spilling over the side of the crate as his head spun. Turning weakly to look back up and behind him, Sidonis could see the silhouette of Verrin against the glowing track lighting in the ceiling. He loaded a gun with a special ammo type and placed the barrel against Sidonis' shoulder.

"Like I said, I'm no saint, _Sidonis_," the turian's eyes widened, and Verrin pulled the trigger. Sharp pain rippled through his arm, and his vision became instantly cloudy. Sounds shifted together into a single dull buzz, and eventually the blackness closed in on him. The last thing he felt was his body being hoisted into the crate on which he had fallen.

* * *

Daylight, well artificial daylight, crept in through the windows of the apartment. Joker tried to ignore its slow advance up the side of his face and eventually onto his eyelids, but to no avail. He remained still, however, his eyes closed, and wished he could _will_ time backwards again. He felt her head resting on his chest, felt the soft, steady breathing of her lungs behind air filters, and smiled. His thoughts as to how long he could remain like this were interrupted by her softly spoken words.

"How long have you been awake?" At first he wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it, though his eyes were closed, he hadn't felt her shift or move at all. He replied softly, just in case he **had** imagined it.

"About ten minutes." She sighed, and the sound made him squeeze her gently with the arm that held her close. He smiled fully when she spoke his thoughts, still not moving on his chest.

"Do you think if we concentrate hard enough, we can rewind time? I mean I've been trying for the past few minutes but it's not working, maybe we need to combine brainpower." He laughed softly and leaned his head forward to place a kiss on top of her helmet. He did feel her move against him then, shifting to get a centimeter closer to him.

"We should get up," he said, sadness apparent in his voice. She nodded and extricated herself from his grasp, standing and stretching. His eyes wandered her body as she did, and he looked away furtively when he caught himself doing it. She laughed when she saw him look coyly away, and stood in front of his seated form, reaching out to hold his head in her hands. He leaned forward with a groan, resting his forehead against her stomach as her fingers moved through his hair.

"Christ, I don't want to do this. Why the hell did I agree to it?" Her voice was soft, soothing in response.

"Because your captain needs you, Jeff. And I think I remember something about two very strong looking men outside the door as well." Even in his despair, he smiled.

"Ah yes, those fine gentlemen. Thank you for reminding me." Checking his chrono, he stood slowly, looking into her visor as he spoke. "Better get ready, the shuttle arrives in a little over two hours, and you said you have a meeting with Councilor Anderson, right?" He still couldn't believe Anderson wanted to talk to Lia. He was sure the man knew they were sharing the place, and that Lia was doing his wiring work for him, but he wasn't sure what Anderson could want to talk to her about that required that kind of formal meeting.

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly, "he's requested I drop by to see him today. Not sure what for, but I can't imagine it's anything bad." He nodded, Anderson was a good guy. He walked to the bathroom to get ready, and when he came out she was by the door, holding his suitcase. He only needed the one, Joker didn't own much, and she stood by the door waiting for him. He smiled as he crossed to her, wishing so desperately that he could see past her visor. Tapping the access panel, he took one last look around their apartment, and then they headed out towards the shuttle terminal.

The ride to the docking bay was quiet, and though the salarian cab driver had tried to make conversation at first, he'd found it difficult with a human **and **a quarian in the back seat. Joker looked over at Lia, she stared out the side window of the cab, lost in thought, and he smiled, cementing the image in his mind. He really was going to miss her terribly. Reaching out, he took her hand in his own, gaining her attention over whatever was outside. She shifted uncomfortably at his affection in public, and he gave her hand one good squeeze before dropping it gently to the seat again. She relaxed, but tilted her head to smile at him, and as the shuttle came down at the Citadel docks, they exited the cab and she grabbed his bag, walking together towards the terminal he needed.

* * *

Dr. Carol Chakwas sat aboard the small spacecraft, her head back against the bulkhead, fast asleep. The ride had been very quiet, and although she had tried to preoccupy herself by reading through the medical files of the new crew, it had only been so long before she had memorized them all, and drifted off to sleep. A soft poking in her shoulder brought her back to consciousness, and she turned to see Dr. Donovan smiling at her as he withdrew his hand.

"We're at about five minutes to docking with the Citadel, ma'am," he said courteously. "There's an on-board washroom in the back if you'd like to freshen up. Just thought I'd give you the opportunity." He went back to his datapad, and she roused herself enough to nod and walk back to the washroom. Closing the door behind her, she looked at herself in the mirror.

_Not bad at all, Carol my dear_, she thought to herself. Her graying hair, streaked with white in some places, belied her aging, but she was as alert now as she had been thirty years ago. Serving on the Normandy had seen to that, and probably, she thought with a smile, was the cause of many of those white streaks. Splashing some water on her face, she laughed softly. It would be good to see the Commander again. Cerberus had promised her they were not altering his mind or memories at all, and so she hoped fervently that he would be the same man he was before. Composing herself, she stepped back out of the washroom and walked back up past Dr. Donovan, who was again sitting in the seat he had been in when she boarded.

The shuttle docked, and she began to move to the front of the ship. Looking back, she saw Caleb still seated, and called out to him.

"Aren't you coming, Dr. Donovan?" He looked up and smiled at her, then shook his head softly.

"I have one or two more recruits to pick up, some of our personnel who are on leave need a shuttle back. Your next handler will meet you outside in the terminal there, along with an old friend, I believe." His smile grew wider and he returned to his datapad. She couldn't help but let his smile infect her own face, and made a mental note to be wary of the man's almost insufferable charm… Nodding, she moved towards the bow of the ship and walked through the airlock, and out onto the Citadel.

"Dr. Chakwas!" She smiled as she heard Jeff's voice ring out, and swung her head to the right to see him standing by a departures board, waving to her. She moved towards him, admittedly faster than usual, and as she reached him he stepped forward and embraced her. She smiled as they parted and noticed the quarian girl standing awfully close to him. Nodding to her startled the girl, and she nodded back quickly. Jeff seemed to pick up on the tension.

"Right! Lia, this is doctor Chakwas, the best the Alliance has to offer," she almost blushed at the compliment, but let him continue, "and doctor Chakwas this is Lia'Vael nar Ulnay, she's…" he paused for a moment and looked over at her. She looked at him and shrugged. He laughed and continued, "well, she's my girlfriend." Carol's eyes widened in surprise, and her heart warmed. Though quarians were rare enough outside the Flotilla, anyone who could accept Jeff for who he was, and his disease, and still care for him earned aces in her book. She extended a hand to the girl, who took it hesitantly as she shook it.

"Very glad to meet you, dear. Now if I'm not mistaken in my conversations with Tali, 'nar' means you're…out here on your Pilgrimage?" She nodded as she responded.

"Yes, doctor. I was actually stuck on Elysium, and I ran into Jeff there. He helped pay my way off-world, and he's been helping me ever since." She looked at him as she spoke, and Chakwas could hear the comfort in her voice. "I…I don't know where I'd be without his help all this time." Jeff laughed, a sound Chakwas had sorely missed.

"Oh come on, you're making me out to be some kind of super-hero," he looked to Chakwas, "all I did was give her some money and a place to crash, no medal required." She laughed and looked at him with an appraising eye.

"Though not that you wouldn't take one if it were offered, isn't that right?" He smiled, genuinely happy to have her back, and she realized something very awkward. Facing Jeff but looking at Lia as she spoke, she asked softly.

"And she knows…where we're headed off to?" Jeff nodded, and Lia spoke.

"Yes, I know he's been recruited by…" she looked around before whispering, "by Cerberus. He told me everything, and while I can't say I'm _thrilled_ about the idea, it comforts me that…well that he isn't either. But Captain Shepard needs both of you, and if that requires a '_deal with the devil_' as Jeff called it, then I will support him as best I can." Carol nodded. Yes indeed, Jeff. This one was a keeper. As if in response to her thoughts, she saw his hand reach out to find Lia's, and squeeze it gently before letting go. He looked at his chrono.

"We're supposed to be meeting somewhere here right about now…wonder where they are." Carol wondered the same thing; while annoyingly stealthy, Cerberus operatives never seemed to be late. Her thoughts were interrupted when Lia spoke up quietly.

"Maybe…maybe they're waiting for you two to be…alone?" Carol nodded slowly, it would make sense. Jeff turned to her, taking the suitcase from her hand and setting it on the floor. She noted the girl's hands trembling slightly; holding onto the suitcase had given her an anchor for her nerves. Now with it away, her hands fidgeted until he took them in his own.

"I promise you I'll write whenever I can," he whispered to her, and she nodded silently, beginning to pull away from his grip. He tightened his hands and she looked back up at him. "You're not getting away from me that easily, Lia'Vael," he whispered again, leaning forward and tapping his forehead on her visor. She stiffened at the action, but returned it when he pulled away, before taking her hands from his and nodding decidedly.

"Alright then," she tried to maintain a stable voice, but even through her audio emitter Carol could hear barely contained tears. "Well, I have to go meet Councilor Anderson anyway, so…_please_ stay safe, _nehya_." He nodded, giving her the most sorrowful smile Chakwas had ever seen. The girl then turned to her. "And please keep him safe, doctor. You of all people know how stupid he can be." Carol laughed, and Jeff shook his head in disbelief. She placed a hand on the quarian girl's shoulder, locking her gaze with her own.

"Don't worry, Lia'Vael, he's in good hands." She nodded, and taking one last longing look at Jeff, turned and walked away, quicker than Chakwas had ever seen Tali walk, towards the embassies. Looking over at Jeff, she was shocked to see a few small tears escaping his eyes. She grabbed his arm in a soft squeeze, and he turned to her, smiling despite the tears.

"Come on, Romeo," she whispered, earning a chuckle from him, "let's go find our contact."

"You won't have to look far, I'm relieved to inform you, doctor," a sharp, accented voice spoke from behind them. Turning together, they took in the tall man in a black coat. His hair was close-cropped, his nose sharp and hawk-ish, and his mouth held a smile that never quite reached his eyes. He held out a hand to her. "Agent Carlyle, I'll be your escort to Station Twenty-One."

She took the hand, shaking it and nodding to the man, who then turned to Jeff. "And this must be Lieutenant Moreau, pleasure to meet you sir, and I'm delighted to be the one to inform you, given the scene I just witnessed," Jeff tensed at the Cerberus agent's approaching commentary on his relationship with a quarian, "that the ship you'll be serving on has…quite advanced communication hardware. You'll be able to relay messages nearly anywhere in the galaxy." Jeff's mounting defensiveness collapsed into shock, and he shook the man's hand in reply.

"Glad to hear it, that puts some fears to bed." Carlyle only smiled and nodded.

"I thought it might. Now if you don't mind following me, our shuttle leaves in approximately twenty minutes, from the Cord-Hislop private docks." They both nodded, gathering their things and following Carlyle through the throngs of people and toward Cerberus docks, toward a Cerberus facility.

Toward Shepard.

* * *

Sidonis woke slowly, senses coming back online one after another. First sight, dim light in a pool around him, darkness beyond; no way of telling how big the room was. Then smell, oh spirits he wished he hadn't gotten smell back. Corpses, and the metallic smell of all types of blood. Next came touch, and he felt his arms above his head, felt the shackles around his wrists, felt the tips of his six toes barely touching the floor, felt the strain on his arms. Taste, more blood in his mouth, mixed with sweat. Finally sound; at first nothing, then the soft, almost inaudible crinkling of a human taking a drag off of a cigarette.

The human stepped into the light in front of Sidonis, blowing the smoke into the turian's face as he hung helplessly, and Sidonis coughed violently in response, each hack stinging his chest. The human smiled, a mirthless expression, and twirled a blade in one hand, a cruel barb of a knife that made the turian cringe just looking at it. He wore standard Blue Suns armor, not afraid to give away who had captured him. His face was a myriad of scars and burn marks, and his right eye held a gash from two inches above to two inches below. Short brown hair rounded out the face, and the unsettling smile became a smirk as he realized his prey was awake.

"Ah, welcome back, there." His voice was soft, quiet, but full of malice. "Was beginning to think we'd done something wrong, the way your breathin' was so shallow there for awhile. No substitute for a good fist to the back of the head, am I right?" he chuckled, circling around Sidonis as he spoke.

"You know I used to watch movies as a kid where they'd take the poor bastard and string him up like this, torture him and the lot, get the information they needed and then just **leave** the guy to die hangin' there. Can you imagine? Dyin' alone in the dark, of starvation of all things…" Sidonis worked up some saliva in his dry throat to speak.

"They'll…come."

"Ah, but see no they won't. You think you and your little band of gents are the only ones with sources? The only ones with tech experts? We hacked your omni-tool the second we brought you here and sent a little message of our own. Your pal Archangel won't be expectin' to see you again for another two days at least." He closed to within inches of Sidonis' face, holding up two fingers as his voice grew malicious, all the façade of sincerity lost for a moment, "and that's plenty of time for me to get what I need out of you." He lingered for a moment, his cold blue eyes burning holes in Sidonis' will, and then pulled back, all charm and talk again.

"**So**, we've got many different ways of doing this, however, I've been told to offer you three. The first way, and the one I'm sure you'll like the best, is that you tell us everything we need to know about your base, and Archangel's team, and in return we set you up real pretty on the Citadel. New name, new apartment, new life." He continued to speak, gesturing with the knife as he spoke. "The second way, which, I won't like to you, is the one **I'd** like the best, is that I cut on you with this knife and maybe some other improvised tools until you tell me what I need to know, then flip a coin to decide if I dump your plated ass in front of a med clinic, or leave you here hangin'. Just like the movies..." He grinned wickedly, then crossed into the darkness and returned with his omni-tool alight.

"Now the third way, this one…this one is real sinister. This one's my boss' preferred way of handling this little situation. He's a sick batarian bastard, yes sir he is, but he makes the deposits into my credit account so I can't well fault him, now can I? Anyway the third option, that's this." He tapped a key, and a live video feed came up. Sidonis' blood ran cold as he recognized the inside of his family's home on Palaven. His sister crossed in front of the camera, completely oblivious to its presence as she walked between rooms. His eyes widened, and the human grinned.

"Yea, thought you'd like that one. See this is option three. It takes time to get our people past Palaven security, and even more time to plan a kill and extraction, so option three is a failsafe. If one doesn't entice you, and two doesn't **convince** you," he paused for effect, "they pay for your stupidity. So, friend," he asked with finality, placing his face inches away from the turian's, "what's it gonna be?" Sidonis looked him in the eyes, hatred in his own, and slammed his head forward, staggering the human back as blood ran from his nose. He didn't scream, or cry for assistance. Instead he stood and smiled wickedly, licking the blood off his face as it trickled past his mouth. A cold, sinister laugh escaped him as he spoke just above a whisper.

"Option two. God I **love** option two…"

* * *

**Nehya:** Term of endearment, similar to sweetheart. Literal translation: Interesting one. Used primarily at the beginning of a relationship to signify a desire to know the person on a more personal level, to get to know them better. (Source: _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)


	23. Wired

***Author's Note***  
I never liked how in ME2, when Shepard gets off Lazarus Station and onto the Normandy,  
Joker seems just as surprised at all the new stuff as Shepard is. I like to think he was at least  
introduced to the ship before Shepard woke up, so I wrote it that way.

This was another of my "cleanup" chapters, and follows a couple different PoV's. Most chapters  
from here on out will focus on one character, as we get closer to their respective story arc  
climaxes. Stick around for some good times!

As always, thanks for the reviews and adds, they're always helpful!

* * *

**Chapter 23 – Wired**

Lia'Vael nar Ulnay crossed through the Wards as she made her way towards the human embassy. All around her, people haggled prices, hawked their commodities, and called out to each other, but she didn't notice any of it. Inside her helmet, tears streamed steadily down her cheeks, and for the first time in almost two years, she felt completely alone on her Pilgrimage again. _No_, she thought, _Jeff is still with me, he'll keep in contact, I __**know**__ he will._ Steeling herself with the memories of the past few days, she smiled and fought back the tears as she approached the familiar stairwells to the embassies. Nodding to the attendant at the small desk in front, she took the right stairwell, and walked hesitantly into the human embassy. Anderson stood at the far wall, his side to her, in conversation with three holographic figures. She saw him glance in her direction and smile faintly as one of the others was speaking, but she stepped back outside quickly and let the door close.

Waiting for Anderson to greet her, she pulled up her omni-tool and considered writing a message to Jeff. _No, Lia_, she thought harshly to herself, _he has enough pressure on him right now, being escorted around by __**Cerberus**__, let him settle down, you can write him later tonight, back at the apartment_. She nodded to herself and smiled as she thought about Jeff insisting she stay in hi—their apartment. She was still getting used to the human concept of sharing living space, and it all felt very ironic, since her people were most well-known for the practice, just in a different way. Her thoughts were cut off as the door opened and the human Councilor welcomed her.

"Lia'Vael nar Ulnay," he began, a smile on his face, "please, come in. I'm sorry I was engaged when you came by." She walked into the embassy terrace, shaking her head.

"Oh no, it's fine. I didn't tell you when I'd be coming by, I just thought I'd come by after dropping Jeff off at the shuttle bay." Her voice lowered a bit with sadness, and he picked up on it, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

"Yes, I heard about him getting a position, with Cord-Hislop, right?" She looked to him and nodded.

"Yes, they're having him pilot transport ships, cargo mainly, but they haven't told him exactly _when _his first leave is so…it was a little difficult to say goodbye," she said, lowering her eyes as she delivered the well-rehearsed lie she had crafted with Jeff. It had been hard for him to make the decision not to tell Anderson what was going on, but in the end they had decided to keep his relationship with Cerberus a secret. Anderson nodded, seeing the struggle within her that was in fact very real.

"Well when I heard Joker was going to be heading off the Citadel, I figured he would have offered the apartment to you, is that right?" She looked back up to him, nodding her head as he continued. "I thought as much. Oh don't worry," he stuttered, seeing her tense up with worry, "it's quite alright that you stay there. In fact, I wanted to help you with steady work while Joker is away. Just…something to give you a sense of normalcy, if you're interested." Her eyes lit up, she hadn't been expecting this, but it was very much welcome.

"You mean…around here?" He nodded.

"Absolutely. The electrical work you did the other day was fantastic, problem solved, and when I contacted the Presidium Maintenance Chief, he was confused that our embassy was already taken care of that early in the day…" he trailed off and looked at her with a knowing eye. She blushed under her helmet, but looked him in the eye as she spoke.

"My people know a thing or two about repaying debts, Councilor. We remember those who treat us with respect, and treat them in kind." He nodded.

"I appreciate that, and I feel the same way. That's why I removed you from the Maintenance Chief's personnel roster, and assigned you as the permanent technical engineer for the embassies on this level." She balked at his words.

"Are…are you sure about this, Councilor?" He laughed loudly before responding.

"Joker said you'd say those exact words when I talked to him about it, you two really are getting to know each other."

"Jeff knew about this?" she exclaimed, surprised at his revelation. He smiled as he continued.

"It was his idea. I was happy to help, especially after what you did for me earlier." She fidgeted nervously, no one had been this kind to her since she left of Pilgrimage, and now two separate humans had gone out of their way to make her feel comfortable. She was speechless. "So…you'll accept right? Because it's a ton of paperwork for me to reverse those placement changes…" he trailed off in laughter, and she started.

"Oh! Of course, yes! I have some ideas about how to re-route the systems that should increase the productivity of the terminals around here," she began, comfortably losing herself in the tech, "I don't know **who** installed this stuff, Councilor, but it could **definitely** use some adjustment." He smiled at her enthusiasm, and nodded to her.

"It's all yours, Lia. Go crazy," she understood the human expression and beamed under her helmet. Yes. She was **definitely** going to be writing Jeff tonight. Keeping secrets from her, that _bosh'tet_…

That wonderful, caring, amazing _bosh'tet_.

* * *

The Illusive Man sat in his leather-cushioned chair, studying the six vid-screens in front of him. While normally they would hold video feeds from up to six different Cerberus operations he was currently running, today all six were filled with feeds from Station Twenty-One. All of them held live video of the different areas of the reconstructed ship, and he flicked through them aimlessly, making sure the streams were active and functioning properly.

_Armory, CIC, Conference Room, Engineering, Crew Quarters, Starboard Observation…Captain's Quarters_. Even Miranda, the woman who'd advocated a control chip in the soon-to-be-resurrected Commander, had balked a bit when he told her to install the bugs and cameras on Deck One, but he wanted no stone left unturned. He was already taking a huge risk in letting Shepard off-leash when he woke up, he thought as he took another drag from his cigarette; he just hoped the threat to the galaxy prompted the Commander to think with an open mind.

"Miranda," he spoke into the receptor in the arm of his chair. "Run diagnostics on every camera and audio bug, get the engineers to help you if you need." He flicked through the displays until he saw the Armory, and Miranda, touching the comm link in her ear.

"Understood, sir. Have you received an update on the crew yet?" Nodding to her question, he took one of his displays off of the Normandy and checked his report files. Seeing the information he needed, he maximized it and read.

"Yes, it just came in. Looks like Mr. Moreau and doctor Chakwas have joined up, Carlyle says they've just lifted off from the Citadel, ETA to Station Twenty-One is five hours, thirty minutes." Minimizing the screen, he could see Miranda nod as his words reached her.

"Five hours is plenty of time. I'll have the bugs checked and EDI online, sir." He smiled, sometimes he didn't even have to ask her to perform certain tasks, and that was a perk about working with Miranda that he very much enjoyed.

"Sounds good, Miranda. And what about Shepard? How is the Lazarus Project progressing?" He could see her smile on the other end. He knew damn well they were ahead of schedule, and he was giving her the opportunity to be a little proud.

"Ahead of schedule sir, but you knew that already," she said cynically, looking right into the video bug he had placed in the Armory. He almost laughed at the gesture.

"Yes I did. Continue with your work, Miranda, update me when Mr. Moreau and Dr. Chakwas arrive."

"Understood, sir."

The transmission cut out, and he went back to aimlessly flicking through the images of the ship. He had considered naming it, but so far its only classification in Cerberus documentation was "SR-2." It might give Shepard some feeling of control over his situation, and for such a simple gesture, surely it was worth the cost. He took a long drink of his whiskey, and watched the crew of the SR-2 filter in. He remembered his time as an enlisted man, the thrill of a brand new ship, the prospect of camaraderie amongst his fellow soldiers. He'd hand-picked this crew, the best Cerberus had to offer, and the most open-minded of them at that, they'd need to be for the mission he had planned for Shepard.

* * *

Liara sat calmly behind her terminal, though every instinct in her said act, told her to choke the life out of this idiot and maybe murder his family as a lesson. _Wait, what?_ she thought reproachfully to herself. Is this what her months of searching for the Shadow Broker had done to her, made her just like him? She shook her head and reconsidered the holographic turian in front of her.

"Listen to me, Varnak," she cut into whatever he had been saying before with an icy tone. "You **will** pay the amount I requested, the amount we agreed upon when you commissioned me. You think because I am new on Illium you can keep me under heel, but you are sadly mistaken, a fact you will discover first-hand, and quite painfully, if you continue down this path." Her voice held murder, and the turian's eyes visibly widened, but he foolishly barged forward.

"You are not as inconspicuous as you believe, Dr. T'soni. I have allies you couldn't even dream of, and so I think I will take this information and end our dealings. I _appreciate_ your services," the word dripped with sarcasm, and the communication terminated. Liara stared at the empty space where the transmission had been moments ago and slammed her fist into her desk. Without thinking, biotic energy surrounded her and she flung the small light from her desk, sending it crashing into the door to her office. By chance, it struck the access panel, and the door whisked open to reveal a drell, his hand poised to knock.

Embarrassment overtook her, and she stood quickly, moving around the desk and approaching her visitor.

"By the goddess, I'm sorry, sir." The drell inclined his head, smiling. When he spoke, his voice came in a rasping whisper.

"It's quite alright, I had thought for a moment that I would be dealing with a telepath, but now I see," he said as he knelt down to collect the five pieces of her shattered lamp. Standing, he handed them to her in a small pile, "that I am simply dealing with someone having a very bad day." She smiled weakly and accepted the pieces with a nod of thanks. Waving him in, she sighed as she walked back to her desk.

"Yes, and taking it out on the poor lamp, as well." He laughed softly and stood behind the guest chair in her office, hands clasped behind his back. She stood as well out of respect, and smiled as she spoke.

"How can I help you?" He spoke quickly, efficiently.

"I've accepted a contract, and need information on the target. I've been told this shouldn't be a problem, as she's rather…infamous on Illium."

"Who is the target?" she asked while opening her terminal, then caught herself, looking back up to him furtively. "Ah, if I may know, that is." He laughed softly again before responding.

"Nassana Dantius." Liara nodded her head absently. She had known it was only a matter of time before **someone** put the hit out on Nassana. Not one person had a positive thing to say about her, except maybe her company's shareholders, she thought with a mental scoff. Pulling up her file, she expanded the holographic interface to show him the amount of information she had on the woman, her employees, her building layouts; everything an assassin could want. He nodded his head approvingly.

"You impress me, how much for your services?" She did some mental calculations. Her normal rates, but should she increase them to make up for Varnak's blatant insult? The turian occupied her thoughts instantly, and she fumed. Here he sat on Illium, rich as any asari, and he refused to pay her because he knew he could get away with it. The thought infuriated her. If only she cou—the idea came to her immediately, and she was surprised it had taken **that** long.

"Maybe we can make an arrangement," she said, and he nodded, a smile forming on his lips.

"I'm listening."

* * *

Joker's palms sweated as the Cerberus shuttle approached the docking structure at Station Twenty-One. Though Chakwas was at his side, and he could see the ship he would be piloting out on the construction dock, working with Cerberus would never cease to rub him the wrong way. Stepping out of the airlock, his bag in tow, he walked through the heart of the station before being met by a tall, brown-haired woman in a tight suit. For some inexplicable reason, he was instantly intimidated by her. She had an air of danger about her, and Joker didn't like it one bit. She approached with a smile, and nodded to the two of them as they entered the main room of the station.

"Ah, Mr. Moreau, Dr. Chakwas. I'm Operative Lawson, director at Lazarus Station and XO aboard the SR-2. It's a please to meet you both, I look forward to seeing your decidedly exceptional skills in action." They nodded, and Chakwas stepped forward, immediately asking Lawson a hundred questions about the project. Joker absently walked towards the large viewport on the side wall of the room, and stared out at the ship hanging in space.

He looked at the bow of the ship, remembering seeing it shatter in front of his eyes. He followed its sleek exterior to where he hoped the CIC was, and remembered its superstructure shattering behind him. He saw the small panel by the airlock, the bridge escape pod, and remembered…everything else. She stepped up beside him, and he didn't know **how** he missed the clipping of her heels as she walked over.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he could almost taste the pride in Cerberus that laced her words. He nodded absently; though he was wary of working for them, he had to hand it to them, the ship looked great.

"She sure is," he admitted, "can't wait to see her." Miranda laughed, an icy noise, and he was unnerved again. He looked over to her.

"Wait till you **talk** to her." He gave her a confused look, and she laughed again before beckoning him to follow. "This way, please."

She lead them to the airlock, and he hesitated on the edge before steeling himself and proceeding. Everything looked the same, but…different. He wandered into the cockpit, and almost dropped his bag at the sight of the leather seat. He moved towards it as Chakwas and Miranda continued further into the ship, and sitting in it he allowed himself to relax for the first time since he woke up this morning. Thinking of this morning sends a pang of longing through his chest. He hoped Lia was alright, and again wished he'd asked if she could have come with him. She would have loved it aboard this ship, regardless of who owned it, he could tell just by looked at the controls. As he perused them, a softly glowing blue orb sprang to life at his left. Looking at it, he waved a hand through it. _Some new haptic interface?_

"I am not a tactile interface, Mr. Moreau," he started, his eyes going wide. Looking around, he waited to see someone step out from behind an access panel or…anywhere. Slowly bringing his gaze back to the orb, he hesitantly replied.

"Okay…so…just what **are** you?"

"I am EDI. That is a familiarized rendition of E.D.I., which stands for Enhanced Defense Intelligence. I operate the cyberdefense and cyberwarfare suites during engaged combat scenarios."

"So..." he swallowed hard, hoping that **someone** will make him feel stupid for even asking his next question, "you're an AI?" A short silence falls between them.

"That is correct, Mr. Moreau." He stares at the blue orb, his eyes wide, his mouth agape, for what seems like an eternity. When at last his brain begins to operate again, one thought shoots to the forefront of his mind: for the first time in almost two years, he's glad Lia isn't in the same place as him.


	24. Forged in Blood

***Author's Note***  
Krogan society is always interesting to write, because while I always feel like I'm just making  
it up as I go, when I go back and read it I find myself believing that it **could** work like that, and  
that's usually good enough for me. =P

Tali chapter on deck, check back in a few hours, I'll be taking a half-hour break from the time I  
publish this chapter, then getting right to work on it! =D

As always, thanks for the reviews and adds, I'm still getting new readers even this late in the work,  
and that's always a great motivator!

* * *

**Chapter 24 – Forged in Blood**

Urdnot Wrex stepped out into the hot Tuchankan sun, the heat of it bearing down upon him. He didn't mind, in fact he relished the pain that Aralakh, the Eye of Chaos, their sun, brought down on him. It reminded him that he was alive, and that every day required that he **earn** the right to live. He looked forward, taking in the glorious sight. Over five thousand krogan stood in this open expanse, the neutral meeting ground he had proposed. Their leaders stood towards the middle of the area, a ring of open space around a large stone slab. He smiled as he approached. All of those he had requested to join him here had come. Emissaries from every Clan he'd called: Nakmor, Grundan, Gatatog, Raik, Jorgal, Ravanor, and even Weyrlock. He stepped into the ring in the middle, spreading his arms wide in a welcoming gesture.

"Brothers, sisters, krogan; welcome to this place of binding. For too long our Clans have stood apart, tearing each other to pieces for a misplaced step or a misconceived display of aggression. The races of the galaxy used to fear the ravaging horde of the krogan! Now, they sit comfortably in their homes, having forgotten our might. But even with the plague of the genophage, we are strong!" The krogan encircling the ring pumped fists in the air and cheered. He continued speaking, walking around the slab as he did. "I propose a pact, a way to unite all of our Clans, into a fighting force the size and power of which has not been seen since the Rachni Wars."

"And I assume **you** would lead this 'Pact of Clans,' Urdnot Wrex?" Chief Jorgal Tarash spoke, a gravelly monotone accusing Wrex.

"_So tell me more about your people," Shepard says casually as he walks towards him. He had been staring at his family's armor, lying in the container Shepard had slid across the deck to him earlier in the day, the container into which the human had carefully placed it, almost knowing its ancient glory. He looks up at the human and smiles, a devilish grin that would upset the stomachs of most members of Council species, but Shepard just smiles back as he closes the gap._

"_What about 'em?" he says nonchalantly. It's strange for him to talk about, but maybe that's because no one ever asks. Shepard's smile widens, the human is clearly excited to learn about the krogan like he's learned about the quarian's from the girl in Engineering. He loses his train of thought for a moment at the thought of her. He'd never say it to anyone's face, but he pities her. His people fight the genophage every day of their lives, but she fights just to be able to **breathe**. Hell, at least **he** can eat a piece of meat without keeling over. How she manages to stay so damn cheery all the time is beyond him, and he almost laughs at the bitterness of it. Almost._

"_Well…" the human begins, thinking of a generic question. "Krogan are arranged into clans, right? Which is the oldest?"_

"_Jorgal," Wrex replied immediately. "Their bloodlines date back millennia, to the earliest of our warlords. They're known as excellent warriors, but very set in their ways. Convincing a member of Clan Jorgal to see your point of view over his conflicting one is a pretty futile task."_

He had anticipated this, however. He had anticipated all of their objections and accusations, and prepared accordingly. He smiled, a dangerous grin, as he faced the eldest Clan chief present.

"That is why I have called for this Crush, Chief Tarash," he said, waving to the stone slab with one arm. "I have united Clan Urdnot, and intend to unite **all** the krogan. But I am no tyrant. We, the Clan chiefs within this group, will decide how this horde will be ruled." Tarash nodded solemnly, not taking his eyes from the younger krogan, but visibly impressed by him. Wrex met his gaze levelly.

"And what are your plans for this _horde_, Urdnot Wrex?" Chief Grundan Morsk stepped forward; not challenging, Wrex noted through his body language, but curious. He turned to face the chief fully, a sign of respect which the other krogan picked up on immediately.

"There is a great war coming, Chief Morsk. Enemies larger and greater, and with more minions at their command, than any the galaxy has ever seen. The turians have their fleets and dreadnoughts, the asari their biotic commandos and ancient knowledge. Salarians have their laboratories, but **krogan**? We have nothing." He gestured around him with open arms as he continued loudly. "An empty planet, filled with empty krogan of empty Clan names." The crowd rumbled, some in offense, some in speculation. Morsk took a step forward, and the other chiefs stiffened a bit. He had anticipated this as well.

"You call our Clans empty, imply our krogan are weak?" Morsk said, outrage lacing his voice. "You tread on dangerous ground, Urdnot Wrex!" Every tongue stopped, every eye was on him. Perfect. Wrex stepped forward in a challenging posture.

"Your krogan **are** weak! Your Clans **are** meaningless! How long have you fought each other for withered pieces of land? How many krogan have died to each other, here on this wasteland, instead of in glorious battle in the stars? The salarians and turians try to destroy us with the genophage, the galaxy would rather forget our existence than risk fighting against us, and yet we spend our time **here**, killing each other for ground not worth **spitting **on." He paused, and Morsk stepped back unconsciously. He let the silence linger before finishing loudly.

"Only united can the krogan reclaim what is theirs: the fear and respect of the galaxy, the **right** to fight the greatest enemies our galaxy has to offer, the **glory** of battle to protect our people. **This** is what I offer the krogan, this is my vow. Through this pact, this joining of Clans, we will strengthen the krogan more than any weapons cache, more than any one Clan could ever achieve on its own. The krogan will return to the stars, and **we** will be the ones to take them there!" For the first time since the Crush began, something happened that didn't go according to Wrex's plan.

The noise was deafening, and Wrex broke his gaze off of Morsk to look at the crowd around the stone slab. Almost every krogan had exploded into fist-pumping and loud roaring as he had finished. Members of Clan Weyrlock stood aside, not taking part, and a large portion of Clan Gatatog seemed to abstain as well, but he smiled bigger than he ever had, and looked around at the chiefs again.

"_So something tells me your society isn't one to sit around and vote meticulously on decisions," Shepard says, carving another slice off of that red orb in his hand. Shepard had called it an 'apple', but he could already tell he wouldn't like it if he tried it. It didn't bleed enough when cut. He laughs at the implied question and replies._

"_Not exactly. Our people are warriors, Shepard. Nothing appeals to a krogan more than the prospect of a good fight. When we hold a Crush," he notices the look of confusion on the human's face, "it's a meeting of Clan chiefs, a diplomatic meeting, you'd call it." Shepard nods, understanding, and he continues. "When we have the Crush, it's not about convincing every krogan that shows up. It's about convincing the Clan chief. If he, or rarely __**she**__, can be swayed to your opinion with what you have to say, the entire Clan is with you." Shepard's eyebrows climb, he's impressed._

"_Wow, sounds like the chiefs of each Clan hold absolute control. What's it take to become one, with that much power at stake?" He laughs, a deep foreboding noise._

"_Blood, Shepard. Blood and pain."_

Grundan Morsk stared into Wrex's eyes as the crowd settled. He had not looked away, even when the cheers went up, and as Wrex had brought his eyes back to the chief's, he gave him the slightest of nods, a simple promise that this pact would be real, and not a power grab. Morsk looked at him for what seemed like an eternity, then nodded slightly in return, reaching into a pouch at his belt and removing a round metal disk. Clan Grundan's seal adorned its metal surface, and the Clan chief stepped forward, placing it on the stone slab in front of Wrex as he spoke.

"Very well, Urdnot Wrex. Clan Grundan stands with you in this pact. Lead us to victory, young warrior. Where you go to fight your enemies, Grundan will follow." More fist-pumping and cheers erupted from the Grundan members in the crowd, and Morsk stepped backward as Wrex nodded his thanks. Chief Nakmor Jrath stepped forward next, placing his own seal alongside Morsk's.

"Clan Nakmor has always stood with you, Urdnot Wrex. We will not falter in that now."

The chiefs of Raik and Ravanor stepped forward to join Wrex's pact as well, and after a hesitant minute, Gatatog Uvenk brought forward his own Clan's insignia as well, adding it to those already present on the slab. Chief Jorgal Tarash stood back, his eyes taking in the actions of the other chiefs, and occasionally fixating on Wrex himself before moving away. The emissary from Clan Weyrlock stepped forward, the only Clan to not have sent their chief. It irritated Wrex that Weyrlock Guld would not show himself in person, but he hadn't demanded their presence, and so could say nothing about it. The emissary stepped forward, placing the Weyrlock insignia in the middle of the table before speaking.

"Clan Weyrlock is skeptical of your motives, Urdnot Wrex. After all, the last of your bloodline to rule Urdnot split it in half when he tried to kill his own son…" A cruel grin split his face, and Wrex returned it, refusing to rise to the bait offered. "Still, you seem strong, to declare yourself chief of Urdnot **and** to dare try to unite the krogan under anyone but Weyrlock Guld. Tell me, _chief_," the word dripped disdain, "are you strong _enough_?"

A high-pitched whine went off from the table, and all the chiefs in attendance looked to the Weyrlock insignia. Before Wrex could realize what was happening, the flashbang went off, blinding them all. He stumbled back, covering his eyes instinctively as he felt the hard impact of the Werylock emissary, tackling him to the ground.

The knives were in him at once. Eight, nine, ten? He couldn't count the number of individual attackers, but as he flailed to regain his footing, their blades slipped between his armor, piercing skin and biting in painful strikes. These were not turians or humans, fumbling with a blade and hoping for the best. These were krogan attacking a krogan, they knew where to strike for the maximum effect. Forcing his mind to focus, he sent out a push of biotic force around himself. His vision began to return, and he could see the forms of the Weyrlock assailants lying on the ground, striving to get up.

Blood poured from countless open wounds in his body, and his bloodrage began to set in. He rushed to the first would-be assassin, planting a foot on his chest and ripping the plate off of his head in one heave, roaring as his blood sprayed onto Wrex's armor. He was surrounded by five…well four now…Weyrlock attackers. Grundan Morsk and Nakmor Jrath, both recovered from the surprise attack, moved to attack them, but Wrex bellowed to stop them.

"**No!** Weyrlock Guld thinks me so easily defeated, so easily ignored? He will learn the error of his ways today, and **you**," he said, pointing to the Weyrlock attacker at his right without looking at him, "will be the one to bring the message back. You follow a pathetic leader, who leads you to your deaths. Come then, if you're so ready to die!"

They did come, charging him all at once. He sidestepped the first two to reach him, and hooked his gauntleted hand into the mouth of the third as he ran past. Gripping and twisting his wrist down violently, he used his attacker's momentum against him, ripping the krogan's bottom jaw clean off. Spinning without looking, he threw out an elbow and caught the fourth attacker in the eye, sending him off balance and tumbling into the slab. Finishing his rotation, Wrex rushed towards the now-seated krogan, crashing into him with enough force to shake the great slab behind him. With his target's chest pinned by his knee, Wrex placed his hands on either side of the krogan's face and roared as he shoved it backwards will all the force he could muster, decapitating the krogan using the rough edge of the slab. Blood poured from the stump of his neck, surrounding all the Clan insignias as Wrex stood and turned to face the other krogan.

The jawless one was back on his feet, running at him while bleeding out. Wrex smiled for a second, admiring his tenacity, before charging at him as well. The two collided, and Wrex's larger mass sent his attacker tumbling backwards onto the ground. On top of his attacker, Wrex looked around and found a knife that had moments earlier been inside his own body. Grabbing it, he gripped the krogan's top jaw in one hand, and slammed the blade home through the exposed roof of his mouth, into his brain. Rolling to the left, he stood to face the other two krogan, pointing again to the "messenger" he had identified before.

"Remember what you saw here, I want Guld to know **exactly** what happens to those who think they can ignore me." The krogan seemed locked in place by his words, and the other attacker charged, brandishing a shotgun and firing as they closed. Wrex summoned a biotic barrier, softening the impact of the first volley. By the time the second spray came, his barrier was depleted, and the krogan had closed to half-distance. The bullets tore into Wrex, small geysers of blood erupting into the space between the two, but he kept charging. Before the krogan could get a third shot off, Wrex was on him, gripping the rifle and delivering a powerful headbut to his attacker before the other could recover. Reeling backwards, the krogan's grip on the shotgun lessened enough for Wrex to take it from him. Turning it around in his hands, Wrex kept up his momentum, bowling the krogan over and standing above him. Placing the shotgun to his forehead, just below his plate, Wrex pulled the trigger. The krogan's expression of fear was turned into a pulpy mass in a millisecond.

Turning to the final Weyrlock attacker, Wrex dropped the shotgun. Feeling the effects of all the blood loss, his vision began to get cloudy, but he refused to allow the messenger to know. Stepping towards him, he grabbed the krogan by the throat, and brought his face inches away from his own.

"Run now, and tell Weyrlock Guld that if his men cross into any territory even **bordering** any of these Clan's, I will descend upon him with a force that krogan four generations from now will feel." Summoning the last of his strength, Wrex flung the krogan backwards by the throat, his body collapsing by the edge of the ring in the center of the crowd. He got up and ran, the crowd parting to make way for him. Turning back to the chiefs, Wrex walked back to his place at the other side of the stone table, shoving the headless Weyrlock corpse away with his foot and looking at the insignias on the stone slab, each ringed with the blood of their now-mutual enemy.

Chief Jorgal Tarash stepped forward wordlessly, his eyes locked with Wrex's as he placed his Clan's insignia on the slab, in the middle of the others, directly into the pool of blood forming in the center of the ring of insignias. Maintaining his eye contact, he stood tall and spoke.

"Clan Jorgal allies itself with you, Urdnot Wrex, for in you I see the fire and rage of an entire species. Your ways will lead our people to complete victory, or total extinction. **That** is the greatest battle the krogan people could ever face. My Clan stands with you, young warrior. Lead us well."

The crowd of krogan exploded in cheers, and Wrex knew he had won. This moment, here and now, was when his dream of a united krogan people stopped being a hope and instead became actually attainable. He craned his head skyward, toward the stars, toward Alchera, toward the grave of one of the few beings in the galaxy able to call Urdnot Wrex "friend," and roared, a primal sound that rocked his very core to produce.

Their time for glory had come. Shepard had made it possible. Urdnot Wrex would make it reality.


	25. Walking With Ghosts

***Author's Note***  
**Timeline notice: From this chapter forward, we've jumped the timeline again, and are about  
two standard **_**days**_** from Shepard's awakening. These chapters are where you'll start to see  
the transition into things you'll recognize from Mass Effect 2. =)  
**  
I've been waiting to write this chapter since I started _The Darkest Night_, so it was a huge thrill  
to be able to get it done. This, and the one or two more lesser appearances Tali has in _TDN_ really set  
her up well to move into _For We Are Many_. All the plotlines are coming together well for integration into  
my next work, and I'm really excited to close this one up with a satisfactory "ending."

Enjoy! I sure did! And as always, thanks for any reviews/adds/subs, they're fantasterific! (That's  
totally a word, I promise.)

* * *

**Chapter 25 – Walking With Ghosts**

Tali stared aimlessly out the front viewport of the shuttle as it slowly approached the planet ahead. Pulling up her omni-tool, she looked over the mission briefing Admiral Gerrel had given her and Kal. _Former quarian exploratory colony world, just outside the Veil, check habitability and recover any apparent/salvageable tech._ Inside her helmet, she yawned softly. A laugh came from her left.

"_Keelah_, ma'am if just the mission reports are putting you to sleep, I can only imagine what the actual mission will do." She looked over into the visor of Kal'Reegar, and didn't need to see through it to know a smirk lined his face. She closed her omni-tool and replied in kind.

"You know damn well why I'm yawning, Squad Leader 'Let's Approach At sub-FTL Just In Case.' If we spend any more time analyzing the planet's surface from orbit, I may be able to draw a picture from memory." He laughed, and increased thruster capacity to take them in faster. Tapping the comm interface, he spoke.

"Alright, people, check your weapons and shields, we're planet-side in ten." Tapping the button again to cut communication, he turned back to her before continuing. "Have you got the readouts of the landing zone?"

"Yes, they're right here." She tapped her omni-tool to life again, and a three-dimensional map of the quarian outpost sprang to life between them. "We'll be entering here, on the base level," she tagged a spot on the map with a blue dot, "and we'll want to head…here, the top floor control center." He nodded as he looked the map over, quickly finding the quickest route. Piloting the shuttle through the atmosphere manually, Kal set it down on the ancient landing pad, leaving the shuttle in a standby state in case they needed to leave quickly. The team filed out, a small strike force. Kal and Tali lead Tarel'Venn, Amys'Vael, and Kassha'Shal out of the shuttle and into the complex.

Keeping her area map hovering over her wrist, Tali led the team, with Kal and the other marines swinging their rifles around to check for any sign of hostility. Walking through stone hallways, Tali couldn't help letting her mind wander to what it must have been like centuries ago, walking through these buildings. Her hand absently went to the wall, brushing the tips of her gloved fingers along its surface as she walked.

"It's beautiful…" she spoke without thinking as they passed through.

"Sure is," Kal replied through their comm system. "Can you imagine? They walked through here without envirosuits, built these buildings with their **bare** hands."

"I wonder how sick they got when they first landed here," Amys' soft voice filled Tali's helmet as she spoke, "what with all the plant life that was outside when we came in."

"Well their immune systems were better than ours back then, I bet we react worse to a suit rupture now that any of them would have reacted to those plants outside back then," Kassha's voice replied.

"Yea you're probably right," the raking voice of Tarel'Venn cut in, "I reacted pretty bad to **my** last suit rupture…Hey what caused that rupture again, Squad Leader?" Muffled laughter followed his rhetorical question, and Tali smiled inside her helmet as she kept moving forward. Mirth laced Kal's voice as he responded.

"Ah, I believe you got that one from a gunshot wound. Or when our petite engineer hurled your ass like a set of _nis'telz_ across the ground, I can't really remember which at the moment." Genuine laughter came over the comm at his feigned ignorance, and Tali allowed herself a soft laugh as well at her own expense as they climbed the stairs.

"And I'm better at throwing quarians than I ever was at _nis'telz_, Tarel," she added to Kal's words, mock malice in her voice. The sniper picked up on it well.

"Noted, ma'am!"

The team made their way forward in relative quiet, marveling at the occasional architectural wonder or artwork. Passing through the second floor, they walked through what appeared to be living quarters. An eerie calm washed over the entire building, and as they ascended the second flight of stairs Tali felt herself checking her shotgun again for the third time since leaving the ship.

Moving to the only door on the third floor, Tali began to hack it as Kal and the team watched her back. Silently she finished, and as the door slid open her heart sank into her feet. Three geth platforms stood at the control room's main terminal. How had they managed to run into the one geth patrol beyond the Veil was beyond her, but she didn't have much time to think about it as Kal shoved her down, firing his rifle into them as the team ran for cover.

"Get down, now!" Kal barked over their comm unit. Tarel, Amys and Kassha flipped over nearby metal tables for cover, and Tali met Kal behind the terminal consoles, firing above and over at the geth platforms blocking their only escape route.

"Two Troopers and a Prime!" He yelled to her over the din of battle as he came back down behind their cover. "I'm going to move to that terminal across the way, get a flanking spot. Cover me!" She nodded, and went over the top as Kal sprinted from cover. She fired into the two Troopers, getting their attention, but the Prime stayed on Reegar, opening fire as she yelled out for him to get down. Three bullets from the machine's gun caught him in the midsection as he ran, and his body flew forward, sliding safely behind the cover spot he'd been aiming for.

"Kal!" The others had seen him fall as well, and though they continued their shootout with the geth, she could see them sparing looks back at her. Were they judging her? Hating her for letting Kal be hit? _Keelah_ she didn't even know if he were still alive anymore, she just needed someone to tell her what to d—with a gasp she realized: they were looking to her for _orders_. Kal had never named a second-in-command, they had just…accepted **her** as that quarian. Ducking down behind her cover, she put her back to the terminal, breathing heavily.

She couldn't do this. She wasn't a leader, she didn't give orders unless she was fixing a power coupling or bypassing engineering failsafes. In the Engineering Bay, she was a veritable hero. But here? On the battlefield? Heavy breathing wracked her chest as she wondered what her people would think if she died out here. Closing her eyes tight to fight frustration, she opened them and turned to her left to go up and over again. She froze at what she saw beside her, though.

Shepard sat, back to the terminal, calibrating his assault rifle, and he looked over at her as her gaze swept over him. She shook her head, closed her eyes and opened them again, but he was still there.

"_Hey, you," _he said calmly, his voice sounding both far away and right next to her ear at the same time.

"Sh-Shepard?" Her heart was pounding, even though for a split second the battle was forgotten. How was this even possible? He just smiled as he spoke.

"_Yea, it's me, Tali. But to be perfectly honest it isn't at the same time."_ She shook her head in a gesture of confusion, and he laughed softly before continuing. "_I'm only here because you know how to fix this situation. You __**know**__ how to get this squad, and Reegar out of here. But you won't let yourself believe you do. So your mind decided that since you couldn't have enough trust in yourself to take your own advice, it would package that advice in something you __**do**__ trust._

"_Keelah_, this is it, I've gone completely crazy." Again Shepard laughed, and the sound cut her deeply as she remembered how she loved it.

"_No crazier than we already were, Tali," _she softened at the winning smile he gave her, and relaxed.

"Alright then, get us the hell out of here, Shepard." He nodded, growing serious.

"_Kal's vitals are ok, his shields took most of the impact, but the shock has him unconscious. You know that much from your omni-tool's team read. Tarel's a sniper, if you can keep the geth from focusing him the second he pops up, he'll tear them apart. Have Kassha blow one of their platform's shields with an overload and then have Amys hack it, that will give Tarel the time he needs to come up clear."_ She nodded, and punched up her encrypted comm channel.

"Kassha, drop one of the Trooper's shields. Amys, hack it once the shields are down, and Tarel take a shot once they start attacking their own. We won't have much time before it backs up from archive!"

"Copy that, ma'am! Disabling shields now!" Kassha leaned over cover, disabling a trooper's shields. Amys was right behind him, firing a systemic attack that reverse-oriented the geth platform's targeting parameters. It swung its rifle around, firing into the Prime with pinpoint accuracy. Tarel swung over the top while the other geth were distracted, taking aim and destroying the head of the shieldless, hacked geth with one shot. Back in their cover, they prepared and used the same routine to take out the other geth once Kassha was ready.

"Okay," she whispered to Shepard, who had watched the whole fight and nodded approvingly, "What about the Prime?" He smiled as he continued, that damned, beautiful winning smile. Her heart melted a bit before she realized she was in the middle of a firefight with the geth.

"_You're sure you don't want me to let you handle that one?"_

"Shepard!"

"_Okay, okay," _he gestured defensively with his hands, smiling the whole time. _"Kassha's overload can take its shield, and a combination sniper shot and full-clip burst from Amys rifle will take its armor. Problem is," _his eyes took on a hint of concern_, "__**something**__ has to keep its attention off her while she's unloading a full clip into it." _His eyes strayed downward, to the shotgun she held, and she nodded after following them, pulling her comm unit back up.

"Kassha, overload the shields again, Amys, you and Tarel hit it hard as soon as they're down. Put your full clip into its armor." A slight pause came before her answer, but Tali felt a great deal of respect for her when she spoke.

"I…I will, ma'am. Count on me." Her bravery was commendable, but Tarel wasn't having it.

"No way that plan will work, ma'am. Amys can't unload a full clip without the Prime tearing her apart!" Tali smiled under her helmet. This was a good team, they always had each other's backs.

"You leave that to me, Tarel. Amys, just be ready to unload."

"Understood, ma'am."

She looked back over at Shepard, and he wore a somber smile. Would he still be here when the geth were dead? He was a projection of her own mind…and she felt insane enough just saying **that**, but the situation had been stressful enough that she supposed she couldn't fault her mind for bringing him out.

"Shepard…" she began, looking into his soft eyes. He placed a hand on her arm, she didn't feel it. "I…I know I'm only talking to myself but…_Keelah_ I miss you. There are so many things I didn't get to say…" He nodded knowingly.

"_I know, Tali." _So simple, so short a reply, and yet it was what she needed. She continued to stare longingly into his eyes, tears silently rolling down her cheeks behind her visor. "_Remember, everything I've told you just now, you already knew, Tali. You __**have**__ to start believing in yourself instead of waiting for me to show up and save you._" The thought stung a bit, but she knew it was true. She nodded, and Kassha's voice came through her comm channel as Shepard's image faded away before her eyes.

"Overload is ready to go, ma'am!" She took a deep breath, and yelled her response as she swung out from cover, charging the geth head on.

"Deploy it now!" Kassha swung out as she ran past his cover spot, overloading the geth's shields. Tarel swung out immediately and fired. Amys followed suit, but visibly paused as she saw Tali charging the geth, drawing its attention. Shaking off the terrifying sight, she hammered down on the trigger, peppering the Prime's armor with every round in her clip.

As Tali closed, the Prime raised its own shotgun to fire. She rolled forward at the last moment, barely dodging the spray. As she came up, she fired her own shotgun into the machine, and smirked behind her visor as the last of its armor plating fell to the floor of the control room. It still had its weapon, however. The shotgun stared her in the face, and for a moment she thought it was over. Then the geth's head exploded in a shower of metal and sparks, and its body crumpled to the ground. Her gaze shifted over to Tarel'Venn, who still held his rifle at his eye, sighting down the scope. He slowly took the rifle away and nodded to her, as Amys vaulted over their cover, running to Tali and checking her suit for ruptures.

"_Keelah,_ Tali'Zorah, are you alright?" She nodded, moving quickly over to Kal's prone form. She knelt beside him, checking his suit. Finding no ruptures, she heaved a sigh of relief and shook him gently.

"Kal…come on, Kal wake up, we have to get out of here." She scanned him with her omni-tool again, and was awaiting the results when his hand raised, pushing her wrist away from his body.

"Ugh…_Keelah_ what happened? Last thing I remember was eating a visor-full of shotgun blast from a…" his eyes widened behind his visor, and he grabbed his rifle instinctively, trying to sit up and grunting at the pain in his midsection. Tali placed a hand on his chest, halting his advance, as she spoke.

"It's alright, we took care of them," he nodded after a moment, and Amys was already speaking.

"You should have **seen** her, Kal," she began excitedly, gesturing to Tali, "she was barking out orders and charging geth full-force, she was like you only in a prettier envirosuit!" He let out a soft laugh at her comment, which quickly turned into a soft coughing fit, and Tali helped him to his feet. Placing an arm under his shoulders, she helped him stand and walk as the rest of the team took point, making their way towards the landing pad.

"Why haven't we encountered more resistance?" Tarel asked nervously as they made their way slowly forward, back down the flights of stairs. Tali thought aloud, watching every corridor with bated breath.

"This planet is still outside the Veil, any recon teams they sent in would probably be light, and without reinforcement." Tarel laughed, a single cynical note.

"Yea, two shock troopers and a Prime, that's **my** textbook definition of 'light'."

Reaching the ship, they all loaded in, Kal doing much better with his injuries. As she scanned him against his protests while Kassha lifted off the shuttle, she found no serious injuries. Shepa—**she** had been right, she thought firmly.

"You ok?" His voice startled her out of her memories of Shepard, and she laughed.

"**You're** really asking **me** that?" he nodded slowly, speaking quietly even though Amys and Tarel were engaged in their own conversation.

"I've got bruises from bullets; you just had to spontaneously take charge of an entire strike squad after watching your squad leader get taken out. I'll take the bullets any day." She shook her head as she closed her omni-tool and sat back, leaning against the bulkhead.

"They're a good team, Kal. Amys is exagg—" her thoughts cut off as she thought about Shepard. About what he had told her. About what **she** had told **herself**. She let out a soft sigh, accepting the implied praise in his statement instead of denying it. "Thanks, Kal. Not sure if I'd want to do it full time, but it was a bit…exciting?" She looked over at him, a grin visible in his eyes.

"_Keelah, _one botched mission and she's after my job." The two of them laughed as the shuttle hit the relay.

* * *

"Tali'Zorah, thank you for coming so quickly," Han'Gerrel said, surprise evident in his voice. "Sometimes I think you just wait around outside my quarters for your next mission briefing," he finished with a laugh, and she allowed herself one as well. She had grown fond of her father's long-time friend over the last few months. He never hesitated to give Kal's team a dangerous operation, but always seemed very concerned about their safety and well-being. He truly was a great admiral.

"I was already in the area, admiral, after my debriefing with Kal'Reegar." He nodded as he circled around the small desk towards her, grabbing a datapad as he moved.

"Ah yea, that would explain it. Kal'Reegar is actually one reason I wanted to speak with you today." She nodded, but her throat tightened up. Had Kal done something wrong? "I have an operation, a very simple recon piece, and I promise you no geth this time. It's well within Council space. We like to check up on some of our younger people who stay on their Pilgrimage for extended periods of time, and this is such a case." He handed her the datapad, and she looked it over as he continued speaking.

"Veetor'Nara decided to spend his Pilgrimage helping a small human colony, Freedom's Progress, they call it. It's small, out of the way, and very primitive in terms of the tech they have on hand. _Bare-bones_, the humans say." The thought of a human colony world made her think of Shepard, and she smiled faintly behind her visor as she spoke.

"Has something happened to them, admiral?"

"Not necessarily, well not that we know of," he corrected hesitantly. "They stopped all comm signals a few days ago. At first we thought maybe it was just a technical issue, and gave Veetor some time to work it out. But it's been too long, Tali. Veetor may not be the greatest public speaker the Fleet has to offer, but the kid is damn good with tech. Their communications should have been back up by now." She nodded along with his words.

"Alright, we'll check it out. I'll go tell Kal and we ca—" he cut her off with a raised hand.

"**That's** actually why I asked to speak with you and not Kal, Tali. He told me what happened out there on your last mission." Her throat tightened again, she wouldn't say anything bad about her friend, he had tried to flank an enemy, standard tactical procedure. If anything, **she** had failed in not covering him well enough. She prepared to say these words, but Han continued. "His report mentions you taking command of his unit, and fighting off a strike team of geth, including one Prime platform. Is that accurate?" She nodded, following it with her own words.

"Kal'Reegar is a great squad leader, i-it was my fault he got hit, I couldn't cover him well enough and h-he took fire while running for cover. Please, sir, none of this is his fault." The admiral laughed, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he spoke.

"Tali, calm down, please. Kal'Reegar is in no state of punishment for anything that happened. He says your tactical leadership during his incapacitation was remarkable, and I have personal reports from Tarel'Venn, Amys'Vael, and Kassha'Shal that all corroborate that claim," he paused, holding eye contact with her for emphasis, "none of which I solicited."

"I…" she trailed off, not sure how to respond. Remembering a phrase Shepard always used when receiving praise, she tried it out herself. "I had a good team. They made it possible." Han'Gerrel nodded.

"Kal has recommended that I let **you** lead the team to Freedom's Progress, Tali. He tells me you're more than capable, ready to command." She blushed again, thanking the Ancestors for her visor in this one brief moment, before replying.

"I…I would be honored, sir. But if Kal isn't coming…are the others?"

"I have a squad of marines ready for you to work with. They've been on a handful of operations already, but they're still new enough that I feel comfortable placing you in command of them. Prazza'Mal vas Neema is their leader, he will now be your second in command." Tali nodded, but shifted uncertainly, uncomfortable thinking of commanding a team without one of her people on it. "Also," Han added, as if sensing her hesitation, "Amys'Vael has requested to be placed under your command for the mission, a request I have granted." Tali smiled as she thought of Amys, she would be a welcome relief in a squad of unknown marines.

"Thank you, admiral," she said, and he nodded.

"We're inspecting the shuttle you'll be using now; since you'll be traveling quite a ways from the Fleet, we want to make sure it's in top condition. You have two days to prepare yourself, meet your team, and then you'll be heading out. And remember Tali," he said comfortingly, "this is **your** mission. Take charge."

She nodded. She would take charge of this mission, and make it a success. _And if anyone had a problem with that_, she thought with a smile, _I may end up having to throw some more quarians around_. She laughed to herself as she walked towards Amys' quarters, a lightness settling in her chest that she hadn't felt in quite some time.

* * *

**Nis'telz:** Dice, specifically 3, 6-sided, 6 colored dice. Literal translation: Chances of Life. Used in many games, the dice are all numbered 1-6 but the colors of each face are different on each die. In order of lowest to highest, the colors are red, brown, green, yellow, purple and blue. The origin of the colors used is believed to have been drawn from the caste system of early quarian history. The colors moved from rank to trade as their civilization grew to adulthood. (Source: _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)


	26. The Problem Is

***Author's Note***  
So this is a bit weird to do in a chapter that's not even about this character, but I made  
some pretty heavy edits and revisions to **Chapter 20 – Decisions**. The changes in there mix  
up Tali's story quite a bit from what was originally written, in a way that I think will flow better  
not only going forward in this work, but also in _For We Are Many_. Check it out, it has a super-cool  
flashback now as well! Seriously, go re-read it right now, then come back here. I'll wait.

Okay, all caught up? Fantasterific! On to **this** chapter! This is the last chapter in The Darkest Night  
for both Kaidan/Lillith and Joker/Lia. I've been really happy to see peoples' positive reactions to my  
Joker/Lia pairing, as I was a bit hesitant to run it at first. Don't worry though; they'll definitely be  
back in _For We Are Many_! (And Joker finishes out his role in _TDN_ by being a total badass!)

This may be the shortest chapter I've written yet, but it's mainly a set-up piece for these two minor  
characters, so I don't mind that too much. Enjoy! After this it gets quite a bit darker to close out the  
work… As always thanks for the reviews and adds!

* * *

**Chapter 26 – The Problem Is…**

"I see…sounds like it's been pretty rough out there." Councilor Anderson's deep voice projected out from the smaller-than-life version of his likeness hovering above Kaidan's omni-tool. He had come back to his quarters after seeing to the implementation of the new power grid that would give life to the GARDIAN towers, to give the Councilor a long-overdue progress update. He chuckled at his old captain's words.

"Yea, that's putting it delicately. I've started to become able to tell just **what** level of loathing someone has for me and everything I stand for just by examining the glare they give me." Anderson shook his head sympathetically.

"The colonies aren't exactly the most Alliance-friendly places in the galaxy, but it sounds like you're having a much harder time than usual. Haven't seen this kind of Alliance backlash since Mind—" his words cut off, and both he and Kaidan looked away, remembering their fallen friend. It had been two years last week, and Kaidan had locked himself away in his quarters, refusing to see even Lillith when she came by. He had told her it was personal, and she had said a few kind words and left him be. He had cried for the first time in a year, and it hadn't even been so much because of Shepard, but just that **someone** on this goddamned planet actually treated him like a human being. Unconsciously, he'd gained many layers of sympathy and understanding for Tali, wherever she was. Hesitantly, he spurred their conversation back to life.

"I haven't seen any signs of Cerberus interference here or on other worlds in this system. In fact, some of these people don't even know who Cerberus is, like they've been out here since Shanxi." Anderson nodded.

"Some of them have, Commander. After Relay 314 and Shanxi, a good handful of people just wanted to get away from anyone or any**thing** carrying a weapon. Horizon isn't exactly the oldest colony we have, but colonists hop around, always trying to stay one step ahead of Alliance 'aid,'" he gestured with finger-quotes. "Speaking of, how are the towers coming along?" Kaidan grimaced.

"It's a nightmare, Councilor. We've got the towers physically constructed, but they've got no power. The Alliance techs and colonial engineers had to work together to build an entire underground power generator just to give the towers enough power to fire if needed, and **that** was a good wholesome event," Anderson nodded, continuing to listen. "Once I sent the _Moscow_ off, things got a bit easier, and now they're about ready to run the power grid though a diagnostic. It will have to be the dominant grid, instead of the one we have here now, so I've been informed we'll be under a communications blackout for a couple days while they test it, keeping vital systems on the backup generator."

"That's alright, whatever they need to do to get those towers online, help them with it, Commander. They may resent us for it, but without those defenses there's nothing stopping **them** from being the next colony on Cerberus' hit list." Kaidan nodded.

"Don't worry, Councilor, I'll make sure the towers are online."

"I trust you will, Commander. Citadel out." The holographic went blank and Kaidan leaned his head back against the pillow on his bed. For a moment he closed his eyes, wishing he could just use his biotics to _will_ the towers into functioning. From here. Without having to talk to anyone. With a soft sigh he stood, crossing the room and heading back out into the colony. Lillith was waiting at the base of the stairs for him, handing him a datapad documenting the day's progress as they walked.

"Ready to go back to your flock of sheep, Commander?" she laughed at his arched eyebrow, and he allowed himself a smirk as he replied.

"Ready to go back to the wolves, Lillith."

* * *

Joker checked the rest of the crew quarters for the third time since coming in, to find it still empty, just as it had been the other times. The Cerberus crew were at a meeting being held by Miranda, a meeting she had told Joker he needed not attend, as he wouldn't be doing any of the labor they would be in their off-hours. For one of the very few times in his life, he thanked his Vrolik's, and fired up his omni-tool, opening a comm list. Her name was right at the top, impossible to miss. Not that he'd ever miss it. He smiled, and tapped it, initiating a relay chat. After seconds, the holographic display above his wrist coalesced into her helmet, and he could see her eyes, wide and happy, as she spoke.

"_Hey! Keelah it's good to see you again, though I see the razor has been missing your face a bit?"_ He laughed remembering the first time he had told her about humans shaving and why it was necessary. She had watched him do it with fascination, and he had laughed at her so much that he cut himself. She had gasped then, and it had taken a good minute of talking to convince her he was fine.

"Yea, sorry, I'd have cleaned up for you but…it's been a bit crazy around here lately." She tilted her head, and his mood lightened. It was that easy.

"_For me? _Nehya_, I care for you the way you are, hair on your face or not."_ He smiled at her, wishing he could hold this girl who sat in their apartment thousands of light-years away. "_Though I must say,"_ she continued admonishingly, _"I was quite upset to find that you'd been keeping secrets from me."_ His heart clenched in his chest. What hadn't he told her? _"You know…your little secret…with Councilor Anderson?"_ The tension released and he laughed aloud. He should have known Anderson wouldn't be able to keep quiet about his involvement in getting Lia that job at the Embassy. The man liked seeing people happy too damn much.

"Ah, so my partner in crime revealed me to be the hand behind his puppetry, did he?" He heard a laugh from her as well.

"_I'm going to assume that's an admission, and thank you _nehya_. You have no idea how much the steady work is keeping my mind focused, helping me adjust to being alone again."_ Her words hurt, not that she meant them to, but the sadness in her voice was evident, and he missed her terribly. He must have shown it in his face, for she picked up on it straight away. "_Oh no, Jeff. I don't blame you, I never could. I just get worried, Keelah, you're not even out on your mission yet and I'm worrying about you."_

"I'm glad someone is…" he responded, swallowing hard and continuing. "To be honest, I'm conflicted, Lia. I miss you, and wish you were here, but at the same time, I'm really glad you're not. I'm not going to lie to you, I'm pretty scared aboard this ship."

"_I can see it in your eyes, what scares you so much?"_

"Cerberus has…" he trailed off, looking away from her face, around the room. It was listening. It was **always** listening, and had said so itself when he'd asked it. Keeping vague enough to avoid detection by it, he continued. "You…you know that thing that your people did awhile back, that no one's really too happy about?" She tilted her head in confusion, but eventually nodded slowly. "Yea…well…they've done it here."

"_WHAT?"_ He saw her eyes grow larger than he thought possible behind her visor, and he cringed as she panicked over their comm. _"Okay…um…okay, we can get you out of there. I can get a shuttle and try to meet you somewhere, where the hell __**are**__ you? Oh Keelah, this is not good. Can we…should we tell Counc—" _he cut her off with hurried shushing, staring wide-eyed at her. She looked back into his eyes with worry as he sighed heavily, then spoke.

"No, we can't tell…anyone. I…I'm terrified, but I have to fight through it. Shepard should be up any day now and then, everything will at least be manageable knowing that 'John Geths-bane' is up and walking around." She hesitated, then nodded at last.

"_I trust you, nehya, but Keelah I'm worried." _He heard her choking up, heard the tears that he couldn't see, and his own began to roll silently out of his eyes.

"I know, sweetheart. I am too. Just…let's let Shepard wake up and help us handle it. There's three people I trust implicitly in this galaxy to always act hostile towards AIs of any kind. One is on the Flotilla, one is on my comm link right now and the third is in a room somewhere over there." He pointed aimlessly over his shoulder. "He won't let this stand." She nodded again, more sure of herself this time, and spoke softly to him.

"_I should go, it's morning here. I fell asleep on the couch again, though the armrest isn't the same as your chest."_ He smiled at her words before chuckling and replying.

"Yea, I'm aware you like sleeping there. The giant bruise on my ribcage is living proof." She laughed as well. There had been a time when she'd have instantly apologized or felt terrible for learning that she had harmed him, and while she still didn't like knowing she had, he'd convinced her that doing it was easy enough that she shouldn't feel bad. He sat quietly for a moment, taking in the image of her, storing it away in memory alongside the image of her looking out the skycar window.

"_What's wrong, Jeff?" _She asked hesitantly.

"Nothing, just…missing the beautiful view on the Citadel."

"_That was so…" _she hesitated, trying to remember the human word, "_cheesy." _He laughed at her success.

"Yes, yes it was. You knew the risks when you got on board with this relationship." He beamed back at her, and she sighed, laughing at the end of it.

"_Yes…I sure did. Goodnight, Jeff__. May your dreams be pleasant and your worries far away."_

"Only if I'm dreaming of you." She tilted her head in a smile, and closed the comm link after a hesitant moment. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall of the bottom bunk in which he sat. Hearing sharp, muffled laughter, his eyes shot open to see the Cerberus soldier standing at the room's communal closet, folding a stack of towels and putting them away.

"_'Only if I'm dreaming of you,'_" he jabbed mockingly. "Please. Like you'd even know what to dream about. She could have a goddamn tentacle-mouth under that bucket. Oh yea, _totally_ hot." Fire burned inside Joker, and he stood sharply, ignoring the pain, and crossed to the man. The man stood a good six inches taller than Joker, but he wasn't about to let that stop him, not after what he'd said. Getting in his face, he replied.

"She could have six of them and she'd still be prettier than whatever loose shit **you're** knocking boots with, asshole." The soldier glared back at him, all mirth gone.

"You're lucky we've been told about your little _condition_, cripple. I'd like to smash your face into a million pieces for spewing that alien-fucking garbage around this ship, but unfortunately that'd get me axed pretty quick. So I think I'll just take to fucking with you for the next few months. Hope you're ready for a good old time." He shoved Joker back into one of the tables in the middle of the room, and laughed as he went back to folding towels.

Fuming, Joker stormed out of the crew quarters, trying to calm his nerves. He'd **never** been this pissed off. Where was Joker? Where was the guy who could laugh off any insult? _They didn't insult __**you**__, _he thought. _They insulted __**her**__. And if you don't do something about it __**now**__, they're going to keep doing it the whole mission._ Glancing back at the closed door to the crew quarters, he nodded decidedly, turning forward and walking towards the mess. Grabbing a tray off the counter, he looked it over with an appraising eye, calling out to no one at the same time.

"EDI?" The AI took mere moments to respond.

"_Yes, Mr. Moreau? How may I assist you?"_

"If you're able…could you tell me how much longer until Shepard is up?" There was a slight pause.

"_There are no blocks in my databases preventing revealing that knowledge to you or Dr. Chakwas. The current expected recovery time for Commander Shepard is two standard days. He is expected to be in full command of this vessel within four standard days."_ He nodded thoughtfully, tapping the metal tray against his empty hand.

"And with Dr. Chakwas' expertise, and a timely application of medi-gel, what's the expected recovery time for hypothetical stress fractures in my forearms?"

"_The damage to your forearm bone structures would be negated heavily by medi-gel, though with full recuperative procedures, you would be unable to perform your duties for at least two standard days._" He smiled wickedly.

"Thank you. That's all I need."

"_Logging you out, Mr. Moreau."_

Taking the tray, he walked back over to the crew quarters and tapped the access panel. The closet was right beside the door, and so the soldier had only a split-second to look up at the intruder before he caught Jeff's tray on the bridge off his nose. Blood spurted forward onto the clean white towels as the man stumbled back, clutching at his face. Turning the tray sideways, Joker slammed the edge of it hard into his exposed kneecaps, bringing him down to the floor after grunting in pain. His target on his knees, clutching at his surely-broken nose, Joker leaned down and spoke, almost in a whisper.

"Mess with me all you want, tough guy, and meanwhile I'll have a great laugh telling all the others how the cripple kicked your ass with a fucking lunch tray." Stepping away, he swung the tray with all the strength he had, catching the man full in the face with it again. He felt the bones in his forearm crack as he had expected, but the hit was solid, and heavy enough to knock his target out completely as he fell back into the chairs around the table.

Dropping the tray, Joker turned and left the room, walking back out into the mess. Heads turned as they noticed the blood on his uniform, and following the way he had come with their eyes, many of them rushed back to find their fallen crew mate. Joker paid no one any mind, walking calmly into the med bay. Chakwas took one look at him, then looked out her window to where the Cerberus agents stood in a group. Looking back at him, she shook her head and beckoned him forward.

"Jeff…for a man with brittle bones you sure don't have any compunction breaking them, do you?" He looked her right in the eye, face serious, and could see the shock in her face as he spoke. Joker was never serious.

"Not when there's a reason worth breaking them for." She nodded slowly, her wide eyes still on his as she led him towards one of the gurneys. Applying medi-gel, she bound his arms and filed the medical report. As he rested his head against the wall, he laughed softly, thinking about how stupid he'd been. Lia was worried about something hurting him, and he'd gone out and hurt him**self** first thing on this ship. _It's alright,_ he thought to himself, _she's worth fighting for._

He leaned back and closed his eyes, smiling at the memories of her. He didn't notice the group pf crewmen disperse at Miranda's arrival, or EDI's recounting of the words and events that had led up to the current situation, or the hasted departure of the injured man from the SR-2. He also had no way of knowing that in her report filed later that night concerning the incident, Operative Lawson had criticized not Jeff, but the other man, for failing to put his personal beliefs aside for the sake of the mission. Cerberus may not like working with aliens, and they certainly didn't like humans commingling with them, but they needed Jeff Moreau.

* * *

**Nehya:** Term of endearment, similar to sweetheart. Literal translation: Interesting one. Used primarily at the beginning of a relationship to signify a desire to know the person on a more personal level, to get to know them better. (Source: _To Survive: Alliances_ by Calinstel)


	27. Breaking Point

***Author's Note***  
I like to think that up to this point, all the chapters (especially Garrus' chapters) have been  
climbing that first big hill of the roller coaster, since we **all** knew where this story was going…

Well, dear readers, welcome to the fall.

Of the remaining five chapters in _The Darkest Night_, three of them deal almost exclusively  
with Garrus' story. This is the first of those three, with some Tali thrown in at the very end.

For those who've been dying to read the final confrontation that puts Garrus into the position  
in which we encounter him in ME2, I've broken it into two gigantic chapters; they are chapters  
28 and 30. So there you go, a little glimpse into the future. =)

Enjoy the ride! As with every time before, thank you all for the reviews and comments, you are  
all galactic literacy heroes. Like mini-Shepards if Shepard enjoyed reading fanfic…about…himself.

O_o;

* * *

**Chapter 27 – Breaking Point**

The dim light no longer bothered his eyes. The steady drip of falling water no longer drove his mind mad. The cuts marring his body no longer produced pain in his muscles and bones. But the smoke…the smoke he would _never_ get used to. He hacked again, blood coming up in each short cough, and his torturer smiled, taking another deep drag and blowing the exhaust into his face.

"Is that all it takes, then? Just a bit of smoke to have ya coughin' your lungs up?" He laughed, that same evil, hollow cackle he'd uttered a hundred times since they'd brought Sidonis here. He ignored the man, focusing instead on the pain. His father had taught him how to resist torture. Some people tried like hell to ignore the pain, but that was a fool's mistake. Once you embraced it, accepted it, it couldn't hurt you anymore. So with every deep cut, every piece of flesh taken off of him, he'd winced, sometimes cried out, but seconds later he was numb again.

Now he struggled to stay conscious, not giving his tormentor the satisfaction of seeing him collapse under his assault. And while Sidonis' body held a plethora of cuts and bruises at the hands of the sick human, his torturer had his fair share of injuries as well. Any time his attacker had gotten remotely close, Sidonis had summoned some strength and lashed out at him. He had a black eye, a perpetually bleeding nose, and even some scratch marks on his cheek from where Sidonis had been able to bite at him. Placing the cigarette aside, the human stepped forward again, rolling his neck and cracking his knuckles. Sidonis held his gaze constantly.

"Now I've always wondered somethin' about you turians," the man began, picking up a knife and ramming it unceremoniously between the plates in Sidonis' hip. He grunted in pain, and clenched his jaw against the continual pain as the man twisted the blade back and forth while speaking. "You see, I know that alcohol can fuck up a human real pretty like, but how bad would it affect you bastards, I wonder? What with your," he grunted a bit as he rammed the blade even deeper into Sidonis' side, earning a cry of pain from his victim, "you know, different DNA and all." As the man ripped the blade free, Sidonis cried out again, but his torturer simply laughed, raising his omni-tool and using medi-gel to patch up the otherwise fatal wound. He walked out of the dim circle of light again, returning with a glass bottle. Sidonis' eyes went wide for the first time since being brought here.

"See," his torturer spoke again, "This stuff here is just fermented grain, chock **full** of bacteria and other nasty little bits. So what **I'm** gonna do," he mused, popping the cap off with the knife slick with Sidonis' blood, "is pour this nasty bile down your throat, and watch what happens." He approached with a sick grin, and Sidonis coughed up the words, stopping him short.

"You…can't. Could…kill me…can't help if…dead…" His ragged throat, dry from lack of water and exposure to the cigarette smoke, made his words less of a threatening statement and more of a raspy plea. The human's smile deepened.

"I'm willin' to take that chance." Suddenly hands were on Sidonis' face, metal gloved hands from behind, pulling his mandibles apart. He thrashed against the hands, eyes wide and constantly on the bottle in front of him as the man approached. He raised the bottle over Sidonis' mouth and stopped, looking down at the still-struggling turian. "Last chance, lad. Tell me what I want to hear?" Sidonis stopped thrashing, and the man's eyebrows climbed in anticipation. Locking his eyes with the man, Sidonis began to thrash more violently than ever, and he laughed, pouring the contents of the bottle into Sidonis' mouth.

The lukewarm liquid splashed into his throat, and Sidonis held it there, determined not to swallow. Noticing this, the man delivered a full-force knee to his stomach, causing the turian to cough half of it out and swallow the rest. Stepping back with a smile, the man began the amused process of tossing the empty bottle from hand to hand as he waited. Sidonis leaned forward as far as he could, spitting out any of the remaining liquid from his mouth before returning to glaring at the human. No matter what the effects were, he was determined to remain defiant.

They came on quickly. His stomach began to churn and rumble, louder than he'd ever heard it. The slightly muffled laughing from the human confirmed its volume, and without warning he vomitted all down the front of himself, spitting at the end as he held the human's gaze. The room began to go fuzzy, and his vision shook though he hung perfectly still. Closing his eyes to try and block out the effects earned him a hard slap across the face from his torturer.

"Eyes open, sweetheart. I want to watch you suffer from th—" A square of light appeared in the inky blackness outside their dim ring of light, and the silhouette of a humanoid walked in. Though his vision shook terribly now, he could see concern lace the eyes of his torturer as the being approached, staying outside the circle of light.

"Why is he twitching?" The voice was cold, hard, very baritone. Batarian. It demanded a response when it asked a question, and the human grinned wickedly, holding the bottle out to the batarian, who took it and read the label. After a short pause, he spoke again. "Human?" The torturer laughed softly, nodding to the batarian.

In one swift motion the batarian swung the bottle, catching the human in the back of the head. Half of the cheaply-made bottle broke off, and the human stumbled forward, dazed, as the batarian swung the now-jagged bottle again, impaling his exposed neck. Numbly, with eyes wide in shock, the human looked down in vain, then back to the batarian.

"I said nothing truly life-threatening. You pour your filth down his throat and expect me to be _pleased_?" The human's mouth worked frantically, trying to say something. "And they call _my_ people sadistic." He twisted the bottle and violently ripped it from the human's neck, blood spraying forward as he toppled over, twitching a little before becoming completely still.

The batarian stepped into the light then, and Sidonis repressed a shudder. His blue suns armor omitted the helmet, and all four of the batarian's eyes focused on him. "Humans, right?" he spoke, and Sidonis gave the best nonchalant shrug he could while chained and fighting a reaction to the human alcohol. The batarian chuckled a bit at his gesture, and raised his omni-tool. Cooling medicine spread through his system, and the churning in his stomach began to recede. His vision still shook, but much less erratically as before, and the batarian stepped back to admire his work.

"I've seen men of all species crack under less than that," he began, walking in a circle around Sidonis. "So why haven't you? What do I need to do to get your aid on this?" Sidonis shook his head, laughing as best he could.

"You…can't. Will protect…my family." A laugh came from the batarian as he replied.

"Yes, of course. But which one?" He stepped back in front of Sidonis, raising his omni-tool to show the live feed of his family's home on Palaven. His mother and sister sat together, looking over a datapad, and the batarian brought a finger to his ear's comm unit.

"Confirm location." Though no sound came from the datapad, his mother and sister both looked up and leftwards off the screen, as if they'd heard something. Slowly, they both stood, and walked calmly off-screen, supposedly to investigate. An empty room displayed for a few moments, and Sidonis wondered what this batarian was playing at. Suddenly, a turian in black armor stepped in front of the camera from the right, looking right into it and waving. After a few seconds, he too looked to the left, and ducked out of frame moments before his mother and sister returned. The batarian turned back to him. "I say the word, and you watch them butchered. **You** say the word, and my people leave them alone, taking that camera with them, and you get a new life on the Citadel. Your decision, Sidonis."

The batarian turned and made to leave the room, walking slowly away and leaving the turian with the dead body. Sidonis' jaw hung open, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"W-wait!" he cried out, desperation overcoming him. The batarian didn't turn around, just stopped in his tracks and replied.

"Yes?" Sidonis' throat clenched, but he spoke the words clearly.

"I'll…I'll tell you everything." The figure nodded, touching his comm link again and speaking.

"Call it off, we've got what we need." Turning around finally, he pressed another button on his omni-tool, and Sidonis' shackled released, dropping him to the floor unceremoniously. His arms cracked and strained as he tried to move them from the position they'd held for two days straight, and his chest was wracked with pain as he tried to breathe normally. The batarian watched him with a sick grin on his face as he wept softly on the floor of the dark torture room, tears streaming down the sides of his face. They weren't tears for his family's safety; they weren't tears for his own pain.

They were tears for Garrus and the rest of the team, for the Suns had finally broken him.

* * *

Tali stepped up to the hanging cloth in the entryway of Amys'Vael's quarters and knocked on the frame. A chipper _"Ooh, visitors!"_ answered her, and she laughed softly before ducking her head in. Amys was sitting on her sleeping mat, omni-tool alight and reading over an extranet encyclopedia entry. As she brought the rest of her body into the room, Tali could swear she recognized the human face on the holographic page.

"I-Is that…Shepard?" she stammered, and Amys quickly moved to close the device.

"Um…well…yea. Yea it was." Amys looked at her pleadingly as she spoke. "It's just that, I know you spent your Pilgrimage aboard his ship, and that he ah…didn't make it out when it went down, I just…I don't know, I thought since we were the only ones who knew each other on this mission coming up, we could…have something to talk about?" An uncomfortable silence settled between them. "_Keelah_, that sounded terrible. I **really** didn't think this through." Though the memories threatened to overtake her again, she smiled under her visor and stepped forward, sitting down on the mat with Amys.

"It's alright, I was just…shocked I guess. I still miss him, even after all this time." The other quarian tilted her head in confusion.

"He was that great a captain?" Tali didn't hesitate.

"The best."

Tali spent hours talking about Shepard with Amys, the hunt for Saren and the many battles they fought. She spoke of his fearlessness, his compassion with friends, his ruthlessness with enemies, his blatant defiance of the Citadel Council. She spoke of him helping her with her Pilgrimage, of blending his food together just to make her laugh, of the many talks they'd had in Engineering. A part of her mind panicked at all the revelation, but the conscious part of her brain silenced it. She was pouring out all of the memories and moments she'd kept bottled away for two years now, and releasing it all felt…**good**.

Amys drank it in, nodding emphatically at her descriptions and reacting dramatically to the twists in the story as she told it. When she finally finished telling about the destruction of the Normandy, her voice tightened, and Amys laid a hand on her arm.

"I see now what you mean, Tali. But his sacrifice allowed you to return to us. If not for you, we'd be dead back on that old outpost, and my cousin would still be a complete failure at engineering procedures!" Tali allowed herself a smile. Maeris'Val was a smart quarian, he had picked up Tali's unorthodox concepts quickly and correctly, he just needed a guiding hand.

"Thanks, Amys. For…everything. I really needed to get all that out of my head and into the open with someone." Amys' eyes widened behind her visor.

"You mean…you've never told **anyone** that stuff before?" Tali shook her head as she responded.

"No one except Admiral Raan, she's…been like a parent to me since my mother joined with the Ancestors." Amys reached forward, taking one of Tali's hands in both of hers.

"Tali'Zorah, I'm honored that you chose to share those things with me. I'm…I'm really glad I met you. I can't say I've really had a friend like you in awhile." Tali's mind started. Friend? _Yes,_ she thought cheerfully, _another friend would be nice._ Gripping Amys' hand with her own, Tali stood, pulling the other girl to her feet.

"I'm glad you were here to listen." Her head tilted in a smile, and Tali mirrored it. "Now Let's go check out this team of marines, see if they're comfortable being bossed around by me." Amys laughed as she replied.

"Should I bring my sleeping mat for cushioning? You know, in case you decide to throw them around?" Tali laughed and yanked her friend's arm in mock anger to pull her out the doorway, the two of them laughing as they headed towards Prazza'Mal's quarters.

* * *

The skycar landed softly in the docking bay of the Omega Warehouses, and Garrus stepped out into the night. The lighting systems in this area of Omega were constantly broken or malfunctioning, and even in the daytime the place looked far less than reputable. Walking through the back alleys, Garrus eventually came upon the cargo yards that Sidonis had told him about in the omni-tool message he'd received a few hours earlier.

_Garrus, take a skycar to this place, it's the yard I get our supplies from. Got an amazing deal on some heavy guns, but need two people to move the merchandise. If you've got a second to help me I'd appreciate it, I'll be there waiting. –Sidonis_

He walked slowly through the storage buildings, looking at the faded numbers on each metal door until he reached the one he was looking for. The number 490 was emblazoned on its surface, and Garrus leaned back against the door, looking around for any sign of Sidonis. He pulled up his omni-tool and sent the turian a brief message.

_Sidonis, I'm here, where are you? Don't have much time, need to get back and help Ripper find a place for those girls to stay. Can you send me the access codes for the door so I can at least get started? -Garrus_

Leaning his head back against the cargo locker door, Garrus heaved a sigh and stared into the sky above him, seeing only more metal, the level above. Looking around more, he began to get nervous. Where was Sidonis? His first message had been alright, he had been trying to establish a new contact for weapons dealing and had been gone a couple days. But now, not showing at all? Just when he began to think something may be amiss, his omni-tool chimed, and he opened the new message from Sidonis. A number was all that was written in it.

_94-362-86-83-4218._

Putting the code in, Garrus tapped the access panel when it glowed green and stepped back to let the door open. After the door slid away, he stepped forward again to investigate, but shadows filled the empty cargo bay. Something was definitely wrong here. Reaching out hesitantly, Garrus tapped the light panel, and the entire cargo bay was bathed in white light. Garrus saw it immediately. On the back wall, laser scoring, a simple sentence.

"I'm sorry, Garrus."


	28. Knock, Knock

*****Edit Note - 10/20/11***  
Thanks, HellBovine, couldn't find that message in my in-game inbox. Had thought  
one of their wives wrote Shepard later. You get +1 venomPOINTS (Disclaimer:  
venomPOINTS not actually redeemable for...well, anything.)**

***Author's Note***  
Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, humans and aliens, welcome to the main event.  
We're within the last four chapters now, and the tension is boiling over. This is the first of  
a two-chapter finale for Garrus and his team, and the two chapters are dedicated entirely  
to them.

Chapter 29 will be a Wilson/Jacob/Miranda PoV-hopper as Wilson enacts his betrayal, and  
Chapter 31 will be a Tali piece, getting her team together and heading off to Freedom's Progress.

For anyone interested, I'll also be writing an Afterword, and answering any questions anyone  
may have about the story. If you'd like a question answered, just PM it to me with the subject  
line of "Afterword," and I'll put it in! If I don't get any, no worries, I just always write an Afterword  
on my pieces anyway. I always wonder what made the author write things a certain way when I'm  
reading a piece, so I like to give people that insight into my own writing, if they're interested in  
reading it. =)

Whew that was a lot in an Author's Note! On to the "fun"! Enjoy, and as always, thanks for the  
reviews and adds!

* * *

**Chapter 28 – Knock, Knock**

Blood pounded through Garrus' head as he ran faster than he ever had through the cargo bays around him, trying to remember the way back to the shuttle. He'd already been turned around once, and he fumed as he sprinted. _Betrayed_. By _Sidonis_, of all people. He wouldn't say he'd never entertained the idea that someone in his team might betray him, but spirits why did it have to be Sidonis? He'd tried to send a message back to him after seeing the laser-scored apology in the back of the cargo bay, but had simply received a _[Communications Failure]_ message in response. Sidonis had either blocked communications from him, or scrapped his omni-tool entirely. Garrus growled in rage and increased his speed at the thought, finally finding his way out of the cargo yard and back to the transport terminal.

A pair of salarians stood chatting by the terminal, and as the skycar they'd requested lowered onto the platform, Garrus rushed past them, grabbing the one in the lead by the shoulder and flinging him backwards. He fell to the ground with a muffled cry of outrage, and Garrus hopped in the skycar, taking manual control and lifting it off into the atmosphere around Omega. Tilting the bow of the craft upwards, he could see the underside of the asteroid dome-top to the huge space station, and flew straight towards it. Level after level passed underneath his ship as he slowly ascended upwards.

He hoped he wasn't too late.

* * *

"Come on, Krul, hold it up farther," Erash couldn't help but let the frustration he'd been feeling at the explosive trap in their main door slip into his voice, and the krogan glared at him, but grunted, heaving the huge door up another few inches. "Sorry," he said quietly, working with the trap once again.

"No need to apologize, I just _hope_ they try to hack the door. I'd love to see the..._consequences_," the krogan smiled as he emphasized the last word, a stomach-turning sight, but Erash just laughed softly before continuing.

"Yea, I'd like to see that too. Spirits know I've put enough work into this thing, but it's still not working correctly. Don't even have to try hacking the door to know it won't trigger." The krogan snorted.

"So it's a dud."

"Please, I'm not a novice at this. It's still a very viable explosive, and if it gets hit with any fire, it'll blow sky-high. But to control the explosion right now I'd have to manually activate it, which, as you can see, would require being no more than ten yards away." The krogan laughed, and a deep, gravelly voice spoke up as Vortash laughed as well.

"So it's a bomb that takes you out along with the enemy…I think I'd prefer a dud." The batarian smiled as he rounded the other side of the door and came into view, and the three of them shared a small laugh as they continued to work on the door. Erash continued to speak as he worked on the bomb.

"I'll get it working, don't you worry. My father was one of the greatest demolition experts on all of Pal—" his words were cut short by a sniper shot ringing out, and he snapped his head up at the sickening _crunch_ to his right. Vortash's body stood upright for a full three seconds, his head a pulpy mass, before it toppled to the floor in the entryway to their base. Time seemed to slow as Erash turned his gaze back across the bridge to see the Blue Suns sniper lining up another shot. His feet were frozen, his mind blank.

Grundan Krul was already moving, rushing into the base, and grabbing Erash in one meaty arm as he ran in. The sniper rifle sang its song of death again, and the bullet pierced the metal siding of their base right where Erash's head had been seconds before. Throwing the turian to the ground once they were inside, Krul grabbed the giant bulkhead and began to pull it shut. Erash leaped forward, grabbing Vortash's body by his feet and dragging him into the base. One, two, three sniper rounds slammed into Krul's gigantic body, but he continued to heave the door, and it closed with a resounding _thud._ Turning around, Krul roared into the base.

"Blue Suns! They've found us! Time for a **fight**!" Slamming a fist into the open palm of his other hand, Krul grabbed the assault rifle off of his back and took up a position by the front row. A small machicolation had been cut into the front wall of the base, allowing defenders to fire upon anyone coming over the bridge, and Krul let loose, taking down mercs one at a time as they flooded over the far barricade they had erected earlier.

Members of their team poured out of every doorway in the compound as Erash pulled Vortash's body to a back room, covering him with a blanket. As he left, he saw Ripper coming out of the room next to Vortash's grave, looking back inwards and gesturing to the three human girls within as he spoke.

"It's gonna be alright, just stay down, and stay quiet, okay?" They must have acquiesced, because Erash saw him nod before closing the door and turning to him. "So, they finally wised up, huh?" Erash nodded blankly, still overcome by his close encounter with death. Ripper walked over to him and, without warning, laid a heavy backhanded slap across his mandibles. Erash's head reeled, and he shook it violently before sending a wide-eyed glare back at the human. "Wake up, peach-cup! This is a **fucking** war, people are gonna die. Just try not to be one of them." The anger faded from Erash's eyes, and he nodded determinedly, taking his heavy pistol from his side and activating it. Ripper grinned wickedly. "Hell yea. Let's get this party started." Turning, he ran to the front of the base to meet up with Krul. Erash ran up the flight of stairs, finding himself following Butler and Weaver as they rushed towards the upper-level sniper perch. He caught the middle of their conversation as he ran with them.

"—the hell are Garrus and Sidonis when shit like this happens?" Weaver ranted as they took up positions. Butler simply shrugged, sighting down his scope and taking the head off of a merc in one fluid motion. Erash hadn't heard the man utter more than five words since joining the team, but he was a damn good killer. Erash answered Weaver's question as he leaned out to fire, keeping suppression on a merc in cover.

"Sidonis was picking up some new weapons, Garrus said he asked for his help in moving it all, but they should be back by now..." The roar of weapons fire from below forced him to yell, and Weaver nodded as he fired a grenade towards the back row of bridge-crossers. It exploded, and two mercs died instantly. One sat clutching the bleeding stump of his leg for a few seconds until Butler put a round through his head. Weaver laughed and reloaded the launcher.

"Well they better get back here soon; I'm not exactly 'leadership material'!"

* * *

"What's the total so far?"

"Just one, sir. The batarian." Tarak frowned. He had wanted the traitor to be the last to die, so he could finish the bastard himself. Just as well, he would find the body and carve out the eyes. Leaving his soul trapped in a corpse for all of eternity seemed a fitting punishment.

"Have Garm and Jaroth replied to my messages yet?"

"Garm has, sir," Jentha began, "The Blood Pack are on their way. No word yet from Jaroth, though he does like to be elusive…" she trailed off, uncertain, but he nodded. The salarian was always careful, only playing his cards when he knew the game was already his. He hadn't expected anything different from the coward.

"Keep sending them over, and contact our men back at the main levels. This bridge is an intentional kill-zone. We're going to need fodder for their cannons. Tell them to recruit anyone with half a brain and a whole gun, we'll send them first, weaken them up, then hammer in and overwhelm them." Jentha nodded emphatically.

"Yes sir, I'll send the message straight away." She turned and all but ran from his command center. She was perhaps the only human he did not want to kill on sight. Smiling viciously, he turned back to the map Sidonis had provided them. The bridge was, indeed, the only way into the base, but there had to be other options, other ways. Turning the holographic image with his hands, he examined the base. He would find a way to break through, and this little rebellion would end.

And Archangel…he would suffer to the very last breath.

* * *

They had been fighting for almost an hour, holding the Suns off steadily. Grundal Krul and Ripper sat crouched against the front wall. They both sat back down after a combined stream of gunfire, panting as they reloaded their weapons. Ripper grinned at his krogan friend.

"How many?" The beast smiled back at him.

"At least twenty, probably more but counting isn't really my strong suit." The human laughed.

"You know I always wanted to ask you, and now seems as good a time as any, why the **hell** are you on Omega?" The krogan laughed before responding.

"My father is a Clan chief back on Tuchanka. Chief Grundan Morsk," he said with feigned reverence. "He wants to spend his life growling at other krogan and defending some patch of fallow ground. That's not the life for me." He paused, swinging over the top again and sending a hail of bullets into the advancing troops before coming back down and continuing. "Twenty-two. Anyway, I originally came here to join the Blood Pack, believe it or not. But their 'Clan,'" he spat the word, using finger-quotes, "is weak. They don't fight for glory, or even just to see their enemies die. They fight for money, money given to them by weaklings who can't fight their own battles."

"So how'd you wind up with Archangel?" Ripper asked, grunting the last bit as he leaned up over and delivered a face-full of shotgun ammo into an approaching Suns member.

"Blood Pack sent me to kill him as a trial. They knew I wasn't going to be able to pull it off; they just wanted to see how far I would get. More a test for **him** than for me, I think. Anyway, He didn't run, didn't shoot, just stood there with his gun on me. He said I was a strong krogan. I asked him how he would know. He told me he had traveled with Urdnot Wrex, and had seen that the true might of my people lies in choosing battles, not fighting every one with reckless abandon." He paused, firing over the top, a thoughtful look on his face. "His words…he was right. So I asked to join him against his enemies, and here I am."

"Here you are," Ripper said, almost a whisper. "Krul…you really think we're making it out of this?" He looked into his friend's face for a second, it was all he needed. The krogan smiled wickedly, shaking his head slowly as he responded.

"No…but neither are **they**."

* * *

Monteague's eyes flashed open at the sound of a sniper shot. He'd only been partially asleep anyway. Fire still burned across the left side of his body, but he was tired of laying around useless. Swinging his feet over the side of the gurney, he grabbed his omni-tool and submachine gun off of the nearby table. Crossing to the door gingerly, he noticed Melanis asleep in the chair. He kicked its leg hard with his good foot, and the salarian started awake.

"M-Monteague? No, you can't be up, you have to—" his words were cut off as he heard a grenade impact the front of the base. Eyes wide, he stood quickly, rushing to act. "Alright, you'll need pain inhibitors and burn salve so you can wear your armor." Acquiring what he needed, Melanis rubbed the salve onto Monteague's burns, and a numbing effect instantly washed over them. Pulling on his light armor, he took the syringe from Melanis' trembling hands and jammed it into his own arm. His eyes flashed wide, colors became sharper, and the world was clear again. Dropping the syringe, he clapped Melanis on the shoulder.

"Thanks, doc. Never thought I'd be patched up by a salarian, but you did a bang-up job." Without waiting for a reply, he stepped out into the main area and crossed quickly to the front of the base.

* * *

"Still no response! I can't get him on his omni-tool!" Mierin's shrill voice pierced through the veil of concentration Sensat had acquired as he typed away furiously on the terminal in front of him.

"Try a different encryption frequency, they're trying to jam our communications!" As if hearing his hypothesis, the terminal in front of him seized up, locking with an _[Access Denied] _message across the screen. Looking over, he saw his brother's terminal flashing the same thing. They looked at each other, each salarian's gaze admitting a defeat they rarely suffered. Monteague rushed by, and the sight of him walking around startled them. However as he passed Sensat noticed something odd about his armor…the small blue light at the base of his neck wasn't glowing…Sensat gasped, he had no shields!

Rushing after Monteague, he caught up to him just as he was about to activate his tactical cloak and leap the fortification wall to close with the enemy. He was mid-air when Sensat's three-fingered hand caught the back of his armor, pulling him back over as bullets narrowly missed peppering his armor.

"What the hell, Sensat?" He yelled, surprised at the salarian's actions. Standing above him, Sensat gestured to his suit.

"It's your shields, the indicator light is off, I think they're offl—" the trio of bullets caught him in the side of the head, and his body stumbled back, blood pouring from the wounds. Mierin stood instinctively, yelling his name as he grabbed the already-lifeless body of his brother. Monteague, getting back into cover, saw the Suns merc lining up the grenade, knew its trajectory, reached out to the bereaved salarian, but it was too late.

Screaming into the small hole, it was a perfect shot, landing the grenade into Mierin's body as it detonated, sending both Sensat and Mierin's bodies hurtling backwards to slam against the metal wall of the base. Monteague's mouth hung open for a moment, and he almost vaulted over the wall again, but brought up his omni-tool. Sensat had been right, his shields were completely offline. He'd have been dead in seconds. Now instead, he and his brother had suffered that fate. Anger welled within him at the loss of his friends, and he brought the shields back online, activated his cloak, and leaped over the wall. Noticing the large amount of mercs crossing the bridge, Monteague stepped to the side behind a column and waited for the main defense to thin them out before taking kill shots. There must have been hundreds of them...and for a moment hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him. Thinking of the salarian brothers brought rage back to him, though, and he lined up another shot, viciously putting three rounds through the visor of a nameless merc.

Vengeance was a hell of a motivator.

* * *

"Three confirmed dead sir," Jentha spoke as she rushed into his command center. He nodded.

"Good, and Blood Pack?"

"They've just arrived, sir. Garm says he has a brute-force group of five krogan ready to charge the front line." Tarak smiled, that was more than he expected the Blood Pack leader to offer in support, but clearly his lust for battle was overriding his common sense. Tarak would not let that opportunity go to waste.

"Tell him to send them in, by all means."

"Yes sir, I'll inform him at once."

* * *

Monteague stood behind one of the near pillars, cloaked and waiting. Sure enough, just like last time, a lone Blue Suns merc, thinking himself safe because he'd made it across the bridge, lowered his weapon and ran for the large metal door. Decloaking, Monteague cut him down in a powerful hail of fire from his SMG. _I'll kill every one of these bastards for you, boys_, he thought to Sensat and Mierin. _Every fucking one of them_. His comm link flared to life, and Krul's voice came over it.

"_How the fuck do I work this thing…like…like this? Agh, __**alright Ripper I've got it!**__ This is Krul, we've got a pack of my people coming. We've got firepower but…not enough to stop all of them. They're going to make it to the door." _Erash's voice came afterwards.

"_The charge isn't set yet! If five krogan get to the door, there's no way it'll hold for more than a minute. Spirits, we can't let them get to it or we're done for!"_

Monteague peeked around his corner after cloaking again. Sure enough, there they were: five krogan in Blood Pack armor, just cresting the barricade. He'd been on Omega long enough to know that Blood Pack usually sent vorcha in to do the dirty work. Krogan only got involved if things were really desperate. _He's trying to end this right now, _he thought, assessing the situation and comparing it with his previous encounters with Blood Pack, _this is a huge investment for Garm. Can't let them get to the door, can't stop them as a group... _Sighing, Monteague stared at the group as it began to run forward as a unit. Closing his eyes, he said a quiet prayer and stepped out onto the bridge, still cloaked. He tapped his comm unit and spoke.

"I'll handle them. It's been a pleasure, boys. Weaver, you're in charge of the unit. And don't let Butler talk so much shit to you. He's a loudmouth, you know?" Weaver's weak laugh came over his comm, and Monteague smiled as he heard one of his best friends speak for the last time.

"_W-will do, boss. You keep a cold one waiting for me, okay?" _He nodded, smiling as he grabbed the incendiary grenades strapped to his belt and activated all four at once. Still cloaked, an invisible harbinger of death, he charged the oncoming krogan horde as he spoke into his comm link.

"Sure will, but don't keep me waiting, Weaver, shit gets warm fast in Hell."

* * *

The explosion was retina-burning, but Weaver watched it anyway. A friend, a leader, like Monteague deserved to have his death seen and remembered by his friends. The five krogan fell as one, burning and screaming, caught completely off guard by Monteague's kamikaze attack. He spoke coldly into his comm link.

"Cleanup."

He, Butler, and Ripper silently unloaded into the five writhing krogan, their bodies shifting slightly with every bullet. A minute that seemed an eternity passed, as the team continued to pour round after round into their bodies. As the last one stopped twitching, Weaver sat back against the wall, a grimace on his face and tears he hadn't realized he'd been crying staining his cheeks. Monteague was gone, not even his body was left. He looked over to Butler, the man held his gaze, his hard eyes holding back the pain Weaver wore openly. Rage burned within him. Monteague's body was gone, and he'd make sure the krogan were treated no different. Grabbing his grenade launcher with anger in every movement, he slammed a frag grenade into it and slid back into cover. He would send a message with their exploding corpses. He would tell these fuckers what happens when you mess with Monteague's unit…with **Garrus'** unit.

Butler had his eye to his rifle's scope, and seeing the enemy sniper raise his weapon he ducked back into cover just as Weaver began to come up with his launcher in hand. Weaver hesitated as he heard the man yell _"Weaver, no!"_ but he was already in motion, aiming the grenade launcher at the humans and vorcha moving past the bodies on the bridge.

* * *

The world went orange with fire and pain. Weaver's body flew backwards slamming into the retaining wall of the upper floor. Losing his balance, he flipped over the railing and fell into the main area below. The fall seemed to take forever, fire burned in his lungs and he could feel blood running out of him as the hard floor below reached up to take his life.

Staring at the ceiling as he fell, for an instant he could see it open, but instead of the hard browns and reds of Omega, he could see the blue skies and clouds he'd stared up into as a child on Earth. Before his father had beat his mother to death, before he'd joined up with the Reds to get away from that pain, before Monteague had gotten him out of the gangs and into a unit that mattered. In a brief moment he was able to rewind his life, and see the beauty of a cloud-filled sky, his favorite sight in the entire galaxy.

For an instant, as Michael Weaver's body fell to its death, he smiled; the pure, unforced smile of a man completely at peace.

* * *

The Blue Suns sniper sat back in his perch behind a large block of the barricade, his mouth open in shock behind his helmet. Had he…had he **really **just made that shot? Short, stifled laughs of disbelief escaped his mouth as he came to the realization…he most certainly had. Tapping the comm link in his helmet, he contacted his unit commander.

"Hey chief, you're not going to believe the shot I just made…"

"_Try me, rookie," _came his gruff reply.

"You ever shoot a grenade while the other guy's still holding it?" he asked, allowing the pride to shine through in his voice.

The comm link was silent in response. The sniper grinned, putting his eye back to the scope.

* * *

The world was fuzzy, a dull ringing continuously sounding in his ears. Buzzing in his comm link. Shaking his head slowly, Butler sat back up into cover, looking backwards toward the railing Weaver had fallen over. Training his ears on the noise, it soon came into clarity. Erash's turian voice came over the speaker in his ear piece.

"_Second-level team, what the hell was that explosion? Is anyone still alive up there?"_ Raising his arm unsteadily to his helmet, he tapped the comm link.

"Th-This is Butler…anyone see Weaver down there? I…I saw him fall…" Worry laced his voice, and Melanis' soon responded.

"_With him now on the first level, Butler…he…he didn't make it."_ Closing his eyes, Butler said a prayer for his fallen teammate. Ripper's voice came next.

"_Butler, you alright, man?" _As if triggered by his friend's words, Butler's pain sensors flared, and he followed their alert to his leg. Shrapnel from Weaver's frag grenade stuck in a line up the inside of his leg, and the wound bled profusely. Even bleeding out, he maintained his quiet professionalism.

"Negative. I've taken shrapnel damage to my left leg. Surface damage is minimal, but quite a bit of bleeding. Femoral artery must be opened." Melanis was replying instantly.

"_Stay low, I'll be with you as soon as we get a break in enemy fire."_ Nodding, Butler leaned back against his cover spot, looking down at his leg and watching the life flow out of him to pool beneath the wound. He shook his head slowly…it was too much. Remembering medical training didn't help his disposition. _Less than three minutes to bleed out from a femoral hemorrhage_…Turning, wincing at the agony in his leg, Butler took up his post again. He wasn't walking out of this, but neither would they.

Knowing he couldn't reliably move in and out of cover, he took a long breath, steadying his mind, and heaved himself up and over his cover, sighting down the scope immediately. He fired, taking a merc on the bridge in the head. Firing again, and again, Butler killed four, five, six of them, before it came. He knew it would, and so when the bullet caught him in the chest he let himself be thrown backwards, crumpling on the ground in a heap. Expecting it didn't make the sniper shot hurt any less, and Butler silently clutched at his chest, his vision clouding.

Unsteadily reaching a hand into a seldom-used pocket of his armor, he pulled out a small holo, and activated it in front of his trembling face. A beautiful woman and a small girl occupied the space in the air above the small disk. A few small tears leaked from his eyes, and he longed to see them just one more time...

"_Go on then, just __**go**__!" She screams, but he knows she's not angry at him. She's angry because she knows this is the only way they'll be safe._

"_Nalah…" he reaches towards her, pleading. She steps back, slapping his outstretched hands away with her own._

"_No! We have a __**child**__, Ryan! You can't just go off and fight 'bad guys' because they threaten us. You have a family to think of. We can just __**run**__. We can just get the hell out of here!" Her lips tremble. She knows what she's suggesting won't work. She knows they're on the Suns' list, and that running would just start a chase that neither of them want to expose Lisa to. But she can't say these things. He shakes his head._

"_You know they'd just follow us. Monteague and Weaver, they can stop this. I want to **help** them stop this, for all our safety." Tears well in her eyes, and she takes their toddler in her arms._

"_Go then, Ryan. Make your choice. But…__**we're**__ running. I won't wait for them to come find us, and I __**won't**__ watch you die." Turning, she retreats to their bedroom. He wants to follow her, to tell her she's right, they'll just run. But he knows that won't fix it. With one last look towards the doorway, hoping to see her come back out, he sighs softly and turns, picking up his rifle, his bag, and his holo of the only two women in the galaxy he cares for, and walks out the door._

Tears fell from Butler's eyes, and his chest shook with sorrow. He didn't know whether they'd made it out, but he hoped they had. He didn't know if they were safe, but he hoped they were. Clutching the holo, feeling his last moments come upon him, Ryan Butler whispered softly into the darkness that surrounded his vision.

"I…I'm sorry, Nalah..."


	29. Lights Out

***Author's Note***  
So this is the nice little lead-up to Shepard's awakening, which will be the focus  
of the Epilogue to _The Darkest Night_. Just two more chapters after this and we'll  
be on to _For We Are Many_! It's been a great ride with all of you and I can't **wait** to  
get started on the next part of this series.

ALSO! As many of you have learned via PM conversations with me, I am a diehard  
Tali/Shepard writer. While I respect those who enjoy Miranda/Jack/Ash/Liara, I just  
don't write it myself. To that end, I always wondered what exactly happened between  
Jacob and Miri, because **she **never talks about it, and **he** always gets weird when he  
talks about it. Expect that to be one of the things I bring up in _For We Are Many_ that  
wasn't covered much in canon!

Just a reminder, any questions you'd like answered in the Afterword about me or  
the story or my intentions/ideas with it, fire me a PM with the title "Afterword" and  
I'll answer 'em!

As always, thanks for the reviews and adds, they make me feel like a million credits!

* * *

**Chapter 29 – Lights Out**

Wilson opened his eyes into the darkness of the crew quarters aboard Lazarus Station. Pitch black greeted him, along with Davidoff's snoring, he noted with disdain. Suddenly, the inky darkness around him was sliced with an orange light. It had only been there for a second, but it was there. He waited, and watched, and a few seconds later it happened again, that same orange flash, cutting through the darkness. His mind, still foggy from the transition out of unconsciousness, tried desperately to piece together what could be causing the light. Looking around slowly, he bolted to full consciousness with terror as he saw his omni-tool pulsing the soft indicator light.

Stepping quickly from his bed, he left the room and walked the cold metal hallways of Lazarus Station barefoot, walking as fast as he thought safe to the nearest restroom. Taking an empty stall, Wilson pulled up his omni-tool and opened the device. Sighing with relief, he saw it was not an FTL relay, but a simple sent message. He hadn't kept the Broker waiting. Relaxing, he opened the message and read, his eyes widening with surprise and a malicious grin spreading across his face.

_Wilson,_

_According to your last report, Commander Shepard is mere days from completion. I had wanted to have this in your hands earlier, but it should help you complete your task nonetheless. Upload it to the security mainframe in the mech maintenance wing; overwrite any files already in place. Then I suggest you find a secure location until the Commander has been killed._

Looking towards the bottom of the file, Wilson saw the attached virus, and downloaded it to his omni-tool. _Well, no sense in waiting_, Wilson thought with no small amount of cheer as he left the bathroom to walk back to the crew quarters and get fully dressed. Walking fast out of the bathroom, he reeled backwards as he bumped into Jacob, and his throat tightened as the man spoke.

"Oh, hey Wilson. Um…why are you barefoot?" The man cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at Wilson's feet, then back up to meet his gaze. Wilson feigned as much sarcasm as possible, hoping Jacob would buy it.

"Hey, sometimes you've just really gotta piss, you know?" A brief moment passed, and Jacob shook his head, laughing softly.

"Must have been one hell of a call of nature. Excuse me," he said, moving past Wilson and into the restroom. Wilson heaved a sigh of relief and continued quickly back to the crew quarters. Pulling on his socks and boots, he grabbed all of his personal effects from his small personal locker. He moved to open the door when he heard a soft whisper pierce the darkness.

"_Ugh…Wilson? What…what's up, man? Is something wrong?" _Davidoff's sharp accented voice brought a sick grin to Wilson's face, one he knew the doomed man couldn't see in the darkness. Lacing his voice with feigned concern for waking his 'friend,' Wilson replied.

"Oh no, Davidoff. I'm just going for a walk, clear my head is all, can't sleep tonight. Sorry to wake you."

"_Oh…no problem, man. See you in a few hours."_ Wilson smiled into the darkness.

_Not if I can help it,_ he thought, stifling a small laugh as he left the crew quarters and headed for the maintenance wing.

* * *

Jacob exited the restroom and returned to his quarters with a sigh. Six datapads sat on top of his desk, patrol schedules and maintenance reports that needed going through. Sitting, more like falling, into the chair, he checked the chrono on his omni-tool: 02:46. Leaning back in the chair, Jacob put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been on Earth, ten years maybe? Still, he liked to keep his omni-tool set to Earth EST. Something about being able to look down and know what time it was at home was…comforting, out here in the black. Leaning forward again, Jacob rifled through the datapads and found the weapons maintenance log with a smile.

_May as well start with something I like…_ he thought as he activated and began to read the information stored within: new inventory, Alliance-grade rifles, taken after boarding a disabled corsair vessel attacking Cerberus ships. Shaking his head softly at his recollection of corsair work, he set the datapad aside, opening the small drawer in his desk and staring down within. His own Alliance holo-tags lay inside the drawer, a reminder of where he'd come from. Cerberus was willing to get their hands dirty to get the job done, but some days he thought that was **too** true. Picking up the tags, he rolled them through his fingers, thinking about the decision to leave.

Corsair service had been a spider web of red tape; Eden Prime had been a god damn nightmare. Every mission the Alliance had set him to had either been blundered by their own bureaucracy or doomed from the start because of insufficient resources or inadequate defenses. Still…his father had been an Alliance man. And while distant, Ronald Taylor had wanted his son to be a proud Alliance marine. _Not that it matters anymore_, he thought, tossing the tags back into the desk drawer and sliding it shut. Ronald Taylor was dead. Jacob had joined with Cerberus, and had done good work for humanity within their ranks. Besides, he and Miranda were working on the most important Cerberus project to have ever been initiated.

Miranda; just thinking about her brought back waves of feelings. Happiness, lust, regret, remorse, awkwardness…the list continued to compile in his mind. They had broken off whatever it was they'd had months ago, had been able to remain professional, and even cordial in their friendship. Though Jacob would never say it, he did miss her. He'd known her for a long time, since she'd been his informant when he tracked down those batarian terrorists, to here and now, where she'd handpicked him to be her security chief on Lazarus Station. Though not without a bit of bias, he recalled with a small smile.

_He stands outside her office, a hand raised. Does he knock? Should he just walk in? As he wonders how to proceed he hears a small laugh emanating from the terminal beside the door._

"_You know I have a camera on that door, right?" He hangs his head in embarrassment, but a smile is on his lips nonetheless._

"_No, but I should have guessed." The door slides open__, and he gazes inwards at her. Her body captivates him, as it does every time he looks at her, and in that skin-tight outfit, she knows it's one of her deadliest weapons. He steps in and the door closes behind him._

"_Please, have a seat, Mr. Taylor," she offers, the smile on her lips betraying a hint of familiarity. Since arriving on Lazarus Station he'd heard Miranda spoken about in…many different ways by the crew when they thought they weren't being overheard, but he knew the woman, had worked with her, had celebrated with her after stopping the attack on the Council, had spoken with her about his father…shaking his head, he steps forward, taking the chair across from her desk. She slides back into her own, maybe a bit slower than was necessary he thinks, and raises the datapad with his file on it._

"_I requested you be transferred here for three very specific reasons," she begins, all business. Good. Jacob needs this to be all business, no distractions. "First, and of course most obvious, is that we've worked together before, Mr. Taylor. I know how you operate, you know how I do as well, and I feel that will lead to a very effective working relationship here on Lazarus Station." He nods his agreement, and she smiles, continuing._

"_Secondly, you have an extremely impressive file. Active service on Eden Prime, and one of the few who survived, I might add. Advanced knowledge of many different types of weaponry and armament systems. And there's even a note in here about you…" she squints back at the datapad before replying, "…saving the Citadel Council from a biological attack? Hmm, 'Source Undocumented.' Well…clearly someone in human resources is getting a bit melodramatic, don't you think?" Her eyes lock on his again, and his pulse quickens. She's smiling at him, but it's not a smile, she's showing her teeth. She's a lion, and he's the sickly gazelle, completely helpless under that gaze…_

_No. Not helpless. He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg casually over the other, and gives her a similar smile. "All true, __**ma'am**__," he laces the word with exaggerated respect, "wouldn't think of bringing an exaggerated file in for an interview." Her eyes gleam, he's matching her tenacity, and she approves. She stands, dropping the datapad on the desk and speaking softly as she rounds the desk in a slow, hip-swaying walk that threatens to destroy the calm façade he holds onto._

"_Interview? Mr. Taylor, you've already been assigned to this post. This meeting is simply a…formality." Walking past his seated form, she allows her hand to brush up his arm and over his shoulder as she passes. Pressing in a code on the door, he sees its access panel change from green to red, locked. She turns back to him, leaning with her back to the door and crossing her arms. Standing, he walks slowly, powerfully, over to her, yet stands at a respectable distance._

"_Is locking the door a formality as well, Miss Lawson?" She arches an eyebrow at him, her smile never fading._

"_I wouldn't want an important personnel meeting like this to be interrupted…Jacob." She whispers his name, and his blood runs cold with exhilaration. In one smooth motion he steps forward, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her deeply. She returns the gesture, wrapping her arms around his neck. Pulling away from her lips, he kisses down her neck as she digs her fingernails into his back._

"_What was the third thing?" he asks playfully as he continues to kiss her. Suddenly he is jerked away, she's holding him at arms length, and for the first time he sees a hint of…concern?...in her eyes. Miranda Lawson is cold, calculating, willing to sacrifice almost anything for the greater good. But here, in this moment…she was vulnerable, weak._

"_This, Jacob," she says in a whisper. "I need…this." He smiles, leaning in and kissing her delicately on the lips before speaking._

"_I guess I'll take the job then. What are the benefits like?" A biotic push sends him reeling backwards, and he crashes onto her bed a few feet behind him. She's on top of him before he can think, her lips centimeters from his own as she replies._

"_Excellent."_

Coming back to his senses, he shook his head to clear the memories, and walked over to his bed. Nothing on that table couldn't wait until tomorrow, and after reliving that moment of his life…he just wants to fall asleep. He wants to wake up tomorrow and be the tough soldier again, be the security chief; and not feel weak when he's around her, not have to hide his lingering regret at what could have been.

He knows it will never be that way.

* * *

Miranda sat back from the terminal and checked the chrono on the corner of the desk with a sigh, rubbing at her bloodshot eyes. She was completely exhausted, after having run diagnostic tests all day to make absolutely certain Shepard would be ready to wake up in two days' time. Just the thought sent a chill through her body. She'd been working towards this moment, this event for two years now, and in a few short hours it would come to fruition. Every calculation she and Wilson had run said that the Commander would wake up exactly the same person he had been before, Wilson had even shown her the neural readings that indicated he was probably in some semi-aware state since the incident. She wondered what he dreamed about… Leaning back in her chair, she certainly knew what **she** dreamed about.

"God, what I wouldn't give for a bottle of red wine and a box of chocolates right now…" she spoke into the air of the operating room. Sparing a quick glance at Shepard, lying complete on the table, she added, "You tell anyone I said that and I'll kill you myself, got it?" He lay still in response, and she chuckled to herself. "Threatening the coma patient, Miranda, classy." Eyes still on him, she stood and walked around the side of the gurney. The only mark of their work, the only indication he'd ever died, were the few faintly glowing scars on his cheek. She touched them gently, wondering how long it would take for them to heal, and frowned.

A yawn broke her determination to make him perfect just by glaring at his injuries, and she closed down her terminal, leaving for the evening and locking the door behind her. Crossing through the empty halls of the station, she couldn't help but feel uneasy, like something was out of place. Stopping, she looked around, trying to figure out what exactly irritated her. Nothing, just a feeling, she told herself, shaking her head and walking towards her quarters. She deserved some sleep, and sleep she would.

Passing through the officer's quarters, she noticed a light still on in a familiar window. Stepping close to the edge, she pressed her hand against the frame and looked in, staying out of sight. Jacob sat at his desk, holding his Alliance tags. Something was bothering him too, then. Jacob wasn't the reminiscing type; if he was thinking about the past, something was bothering him now. Conflict raged within her; should she speak with him? Try to talk about what was upsetting them both? Or…did she already know what that was? Hanging her head softly, she cursed herself for the millionth time in the past few months. They'd had something good, and Miranda being Miranda, she had to ruin it with her worries and almost compulsive resistance to commitment or actual intimacy. No, she couldn't speak with him. They had to remain simply professional colleagues from now on. She'd seen to that herself.

Stepping away from the window, she stalked further down the hall to her own quarters, irritated beyond belief at herself for the things she'd done. Closing and locking the door behind her, she settled down on her bed and stared at the ceiling for over an hour, replaying the past few months and wondering if everything had been handled correctly, if she could have done anything different, if he would be alright. And for the first time in as many months, when she thought these things, she wasn't thinking about Commander John Shepard.

* * *

Wilson walked slowly through Lazarus Station, he had never been this afraid of running into someone. Sure, there were times before when he'd been trying to find a secluded spot on the already-small station to have a conversation with the Broker that he'd be afraid to bump into someone with his omni-tool alight, but this was different. He didn't want to be seen, by **anyone**, just in case the Broker's hack didn't work. He stifled a small laugh at the thought as he approached the maintenance wing door.

_The Broker has countless numbers of tech experts and hacking geniuses working for him, I'm sure it __**works**__._ Wilson had faith in his employer; the Broker seemed to greedily desire Shepard's body, to the exclusion of all else. Whoever wanted it from him was likely paying a pretty penny. Almost drooling at the imagined amounts in his head, Wilson tapped the access panel and the door slid open, revealing row after row of mech maintenance bays and haptic tech terminals. On the back wall stood a single physical terminal, the mainframe, and Wilson walked towards it.

Eyes on his goal, he almost yelled as he tripped over something, flying forward and crashing to the ground. Whipping his head back to see what had caused his fall, he saw engineer Anthony getting to his feet from under one of the haptic interfaces. The young man's eyes were wide as dinner plates, and he stammered as he stood, extending a hand to Wilson.

"Sh-shit, sorry Wilson! I didn't think anyone would be coming through here until morning." Wilson, panicking internally, grabbed his hand and allowed the other man to hoist him back to a standing position. "My terminal's been giving off some color bleed lately so I was just tinkering with it now, when I wouldn't be in anyone's way." He gave off a soft laugh as he shrugged. "So much for that plan, right?"

_Can't shoot him, it would be heard. Can't cut his throat, wouldn't look like a mech did it._ Wilson's mind raced through every possible scenario. Eventually he settled on one. Tightening his grip on the pistol at the small of his back, covering the action by making a rubbing motion with his arm, he put on the best smile he could muster and said warmly to the other man.

"Oh, well that's no good, Anthony. Have you found a cable crossing or something?" Anthony nodded.

"Yea, it's right down here, I'll show you. Getting back down on his knees, Anthony motioned for Wilson to follow and turned to look into the terminal's wire housing. Whipping the pistol forward, Wilson caught Anthony in the back of the head. A sickening _crunch_ greeted the attack, and Anthony slumped forward, head inside the wire housing column of the console. Smirking, Wilson walked towards the mainframe terminal and uploaded the Broker's program. As it completed, he turned around and sat on one of the crates, bringing up his chrono and watching it countdown to all hell breaking loose on the station.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Wilson wondered what**ever** he was going to do with all the money he'd be getting for this job…

* * *

**Twenty-Four Hours Earlier:**

"_You've finished the code, then?" _The deep voice always scared the salarian programmer, always held such malice, but he swallowed inaudibly and replied.

"Yes, Shadow Broker. The systemic attack will activate all FENRIS, LOKI, and YMIR mechs within a network and instruct them to kill all organics. I…I did have one question about your parameters, however."

"_Of course."_

"Um, originally you had said to integrate a runtime to spare one of the organics, based on an ID code…your most recent update had omitted this, did you still want it in the program?"

"_How accurate are the location trace readouts on that omni-tool data I sent you?"_

"Oh, extremely. I don't know what's at the location I was able to datamine for you, but whatever's there, **that's** where your omni-tool conversations are originating."

"_Then no, continue to have the attack destroy all organics. I'll send my own men to recover the merchandise. No need to spend money one doesn't have to."_ His words chilled the salarian's blood, and he shook his head to ease the tense feeling.

"Alright, in that case it's done. Uploading to you now." He pressed a button and the file was transferred. The voice replied after a moment.

"_Received. Thank you for your assistance. You were most instrumental."_

In an alleyway outside, a human in completely black armor received a communication through his helmet. Just two words. "Complete Mission." Nodding, the human stepped forward and opened the door he had hacked half an hour ago, walked into the room, placed a gun to the back of the head of the salarian whose name he did not know, and pulled the trigger three times.

Turning around, he walked out just as calmly and quickly as he'd walked in, and made for the public transport terminal platform. He transmitted back. Just two words. "Mission Complete."


	30. The Sound of Silence

***Author's Note***  
So this is the second part of the assault on Garrus' hideout, and I really  
hope I've done it justice. People seemed to like the first part, but to be  
honest killing off characters is never easy for me, even when they're just  
filler O.C.'s I made to emphasize the importance of his team. I hope their  
deaths sate your literary character blood-lust, you ravenous beasts!

Hope everyone's enjoying the work, send me any questions you'd like  
answered in the Afterword in a PM and I'll answer every one of them! Also  
a fun little note: this chapter put _TDN_ over 100,000 words! Congratulations  
to those of you who've read it all! =D Just one more chapter and the Epilogue  
after this, and then we're on to _For We Are Many_! It it nerdy of me that I'm  
practically giddy to change this piece's status to "Complete"? ... Yea, probably.

And as always, thanks so much for the reviews and adds, they're fantastic!

* * *

**Chapter 30: The Sound of Silence**

Garrus swore violently as he barely missed a transport carrier dragging three palettes of parts and machinery through the skies above Omega. Banking hard, he oriented himself into the airspace of the level he needed, and careened towards the hideout. As he approached, he saw block after block converted into makeshift lodging for Blue Suns and Blood Pack, and looking farther out he could see Eclipse transports hanging back. He swore again, and pushed the throttle as fast as it would go as the skycar screamed towards the base.

Finally he saw it, looming in the distance, and he aimed for the roof. The bridge was overrun with bodies and scorch marks...how many incendiary grenades had it taken to make an explosion that big? As he approached the roof, warning sirens sounded in the skycar, automated defenses locking onto his vehicle. With yet another curse, he opened his omni-tool, accessing the encrypted comm network inside the base and yelling.

"This is Garrus, can **anybody** hear me? Is anyone alive down there?" Static crackled in reply for a few moments, then Erash's voice came over his earpiece. He sounded weary, defeated.

"_Garrus...it's about fucking time, friend. We're holding for now but...spirits we've lost a lot of good people."_ Garrus' heart sank. Which people? How had they died? These were questions he would have answered, but right now he had a much more pressing matter to attend to.

"I'll need an update when I get in, but I'm headed for the roof right now. Tell Vortash to disable to automated defenses so I can land this thing!" Static again, then Erash.

"_Vortash is dead, Garrus. He was the first to go."_

"Shit..." Garrus spoke his thought aloud as the first short-range missile launched from the rooftop. Seconds later, it impacted the skycar, clipping the side as he swung to avoid it. Two turrets raised from the roof to fire on him, and he constantly shook the skycar back and forth to shake them. He was too late on the third, and it impacted the front of the vehicle, sending him into an uncontrolled spin. Grabbing hastily at the safety harness, he strapped himself in and braced for impact.

The tailspin of his skycar ironically made targeting impossible for the defense turrets, and so the spinning vehicle crashed onto the rooftop of the base soundly, skidding for forty or fifty feet and slamming into the side of a large climate control structure. Shaking his head to refocus his vision, Garrus looked out the cracked viewport in time to see the turrets taking aim at the skycar as it sat still.

"You've got to be kidding me..." he growled, ripping free of the restraints and kicking the window out of the dented-in door. Diving out, he rolled forward and away, feeling the heat trail of a missile on the back of his neck. Running as fast as possible across the rooftop, he let the turrets destroy the car in a blaze as he ran past them, working furiously to unlock and open an access hatch between them. Successful after a moment, Garrus dropped down onto the upper floor couch, bending his knees in a crouch. Closing and locking the hatch after his drop, he turned back to the room with a start.

Butler lay in a pool of blood, his eyes lifeless, his cheeks tear-stained. In his hand he clutched a small holo of two women...wife and child, had to be...Garrus felt rage begin to boil within his chest, and he picked up Butler's rifle, taking position by the window and swinging out, death in his eyes. He sniped three mercs clean before the rest realized what was happening and dove for cover. Ejecting the thermal clip, he popped in a new one and spoke into his comm link.

"Alright, I'm back inside and in position. Status report, **now**." Erash's voice came again, interrupted by bursts of gunfire he could see emanating from their defense point below.

"_Vortash went down to a sniper, that's how it started. Sensat took fire in the face, Mierin tried to help him...and they both got hit with a grenade..."_ Garrus closed his eyes, wincing, as the turian continued. _"Blood Pack arrived and sent a huge group of krogan across the bridge, but I hadn't been able to get the hack explosive installed right in the door, so if they had gotten to us, we were through. Monteague...he...he just ran at them, four maybe five incendiaries active. It was...insane."_

"Who's commanding Talon Squad now?" Garrus used the name of the unit the four humans had called themselves when joining him. He had seen no reason to make them drop it, and if anything it helped them settle in better, knowing that Garrus trusted Monteague to lead them well."

"_That'd be me,"_ replied Ripper's voice over the comm link, somber but firm. _"Sniper sent a shot into Weaver's grenade launcher...hell of a mark...he fell over the balcony behind you, and Butler bled out from shrapnel." _Melanis' voice came afterward, the strain of losing two brothers and being unable to help Butler carrying through in his voice.

"_I tried, Garrus...I tried to get to him but...they had us pinned down so well I...I couldn't..."_ he trailed off, and Garrus felt his soul cry out. This salarian had lost his entire immediate family and a close friend in this base, and he was **apologizing**?"

"I know you did, Melanis. Let's just keep tight and we'll ride this out. Krul how are we on ammo?" Swinging out again, he took two more mercs down, and caught a glimpse of their sniper in his perch across the bridge. He sat behind a huge piece of the barricade, a tough shot to make, it was good cover. No wonder he had wreaked such havoc. Ducking back into cover, he reconfigured the rifle to use explosive ammunition. He had one shot, had to make it hurt.

"_Ammo is fine, Garrus. We're stocked for twelve..." _Erash's voice came after the brief pause in the krogan's words.

"_Where the hell is Sidonis?" _It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Somehow, he knew. They all knew. They were just waiting for him to say it.

"Sidonis betrayed us to the Suns. He lured me away to the cargo yard so they could attack here without me present." To their credit, no one swore, no one yelled in outrage, and indeed there was only silence over the comm link for a long minute, as bullets continued to be exchanged between the two sides. Eventually Erash spoke up.

"_Well good thing I never told him about the anti-hack explosive in the door." _That wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting. Ripper spoke up next.

"_I'm going to haunt that prick 'til the day he dies, then spend eternity fucking him up with the rest of Talon."_ There it was. Count on Ripper to be angrier than a krogan. In spite of everything, he smiled behind his visor, a cruel and mirthless gesture. Swinging out of cover, Garrus lined up the shot as he had so many times before, and ever so gently squeezed the trigger. His target exploded in an inferno at the direct hit, flailing at his armor before eventually succumbing to the flames and falling off his perch, over the bridge to the level below.

"_Garrus, up front, another pack of krogan!"_ Erash yelled to him over the comm link. His eyes shot forward. Four. Manageable, but not easy, especially not with the numbers he had.

"They're going to break the door, fall back to the stairwell and thin them out as they come through!" The team followed his orders, moving backwards to keep suppressing fire going out across the bridge as they fell back. Krul stood behind a pillar in the kitchen area entryway, while Ripper took the doorway leading back to the bedrooms. Erash and Melanis took cover on the stairs themselves, leaning up against the solid banister. Their enemies charged across the bridge, and Garrus sniped as many as he could, but he swallowed hard as they reached the door.

"Enemies have reached the door," he said calmly into his comm link." Resounding silence answered him.

* * *

"Sir, the suppressing fire that was coming out over the bridge has stopped. It seems that Archangel's team is either dead or falling back deeper into the base." Tarak looked thoughtfully at the base layout Sidonis had provided him and frowned.

"And the explosion on the roof?"

"Confirmed to be Archangel, sir. He had to fight his own anti-ship turrets to get back inside, but we can assume he's back in command of his unit."

"And he has them pulling back to fortify, allowing us free entry into his base…" Tarak tapped his fingers on the table in front of him, analyzing the situation. "It's going to be a killzone in there. Push in hard with a mix of Blood Pack and Suns, but if they get slaughtered, we'll pull out and siege the place. He's got no way in or out, as our friend has shown us," he gestured to the map. "So worse comes to worse, we wait until he can't even lift that damn rifle of his from hunger, and walk right in." Jentha smiled, she could tell he was excited. Victory was at hand, finally, and he could almost feel Archangel's throat in his hand.

"Yes, sir!" Jentha ran off to order the troops to attack, and Tarak brought up his omni-tool, watching the live feed from the cameras he had aimed at the bridge. At Jentha's word, four krogan and at least two dozen Suns charged over the bridge at once. As she had reported, no suppressing fire came from below, though Archangel managed to pick off three of them from his second-floor perch. His men reached the door, allowing the krogan to begin prying the door open, and he smiled.

Soon. Soon it would all be over.

* * *

"They're prying it open with their **bare hands**!" Erash yelled into his comm link. "Who the fuck **does** that?" Krul's laughter answered him; even in the heat of battle, staring down impossible odds and more than likely his own death, the krogan never missed an opportunity to make fun of a turian.

"_**My**__ people do that. Don't worry, they won't make it far with my gun on the door. Melanis, I'm going to need some shields."_ The salarian replied quickly.

"_Of course, I'll keep your shields boosted so you can stay out longer; just tell me when they're almost gone." _Erash could see the krogan nod across the way, and he readied his pistol, steadying it on the railing in front of him. _Spirit of this family,_ he invoked silently, his mind reaching out to some higher plane of existence, _bolster our resolve, let us find strength in our bonds to each other, to fight back those who would destroy what good we have brought to this evil place. And should now be our time to pass on, let us die with glory, let our names be remembered, _he finished his prayer with a thought of malice, _and let us be avenged._ The door swung open, and the flood poured in.

Krul stepped out into the living space, firing his rile on full automatic, mowing down Blue Suns members as they foolishly ran ahead of the krogan within their ranks. _"Melanis, now!"_ he shouted to the salarian, who popped up over cover, pointing his omni-tool at Krul. His shields instantly restored, and he reloaded his thermal clip, firing anew into the oncoming masses. His relentless assault kept them pinned down, and soon they ran for cover instead of towards his rifle. For ten, twenty, thirty minutes, they held their tense standoff, the group of four below and Garrus raining down bullets from above. Every time Krul's shields would be about to deplete Melanis would boost them. He was a bastion of defense, and laughed at the thrill of battle.

"_Time to end this, Melanis. Ripper, cover me with your rifle, I'm going to head in closer."_ The human changed weapons, and Krul charged in, killing a handful of mercs just with one charge and a shotgun blast. Fighting the krogan, he constantly weaved and fired, his shields slowly depleting as every enemy weapon trained on him. Melanis stood to recharge his shields, and Erash caught the Suns merc raising his weapon to fire.

"Melanis, wait!" Erash threw his hand up to grab the salarian, and as he heard the shot ring out, he felt a striking pain in his hand. The bullet had passed clean through Erash's left hand, leaving a gaping hole that bled profusely, and into Melanis' head. The salarian's body crumpled on the stairwell, leaking blood in a slick as it trickled down the individual steps. "Krul, Melanis is down, get out of there!"

Hearing his words, Krul began to move backwards, but the four krogan, seeing the enemy assisting him taken out, charged him, surrounding before he could back into a full retreat. They roared as their own shotguns and assault rifles fired into him, depleting his shields, tearing apart his armor. Krul roared back, firing his shotgun into one of the krogan's faces at point-blank range even as his own flesh was torn apart. The krogan dropped, and Krul swung his shotgun to catch another one in the eyes. A few more blasts brought him to his knees, and Erash felt tears fall out of his eyes while he fired his heavy pistol into the krogan as they slowly murdered Krul.

Blood pooled beneath his gargantuan frame, more than Erash had ever seen, and on hands and knees he continued to roar, refusing to be defeated, reaching out and grabbing one of his attacker's legs. Pulling hard, Krul brought him to the ground and climbed atop him while still taking close-range fire. Swinging punches and slamming his head into the other krogan, Krul brutally murdered him as the two others continued to fire. The rest of the Suns joined in, and the combined fire knocked Krul off of the newest corpse and onto his back. One of the krogan stepped forward, placing a giant foot on Krul's chest, and raised his shotgun to his fallen enemy's face. He pulled the trigger once, and Krul stopped moving.

"Garrus! Melanis and Krul are down, it's just me and Ripper now!" His voice held desperation, and Garrus' own came over the comm link.

"_I know, I saw. The bridge is clear, I've been firing on this group from the balcony. You two need to get up here __**now**__, we have to fortify."_ Their enemies, having killed Krul, slowly advanced towards the stairwell, cautious and taking to cover. Erash looked to Ripper, who slowly shook his head and bolted from cover, running back the hallway to the bedrooms. He knew what the man was running for.

"Garrus…" Erash began, the weight of his words and the realization of what needed to be done pressing down on him. "We can't make it before they cut us down. Ripper's already run to help the girls…" Silence met the other end of the comm link, finally broken by Garrus.

"_Then…then you come back up here. I'll cover you, we can work together to take them out…"_ Erash smiled softly as he replied.

"You know that won't work. They don't have more waves like this to send Garrus, this is it. It has to be. You can cover that bridge yourself until help gets here or you find a way out. But in order to do that, you can't have enemies firing at your back, too." His eyes slid towards the door, and he remembered the conversation he'd had earlier with Krul and Vortash.

"_What are you saying, Erash?"_

"If I activate the door explosive, its power will wipe out anyone on the bottom level. It was designed for all of us to retreat upstairs and then re-fortify below once the bomb had gone off. But…it won't work remotely. I have to activate it myself."

"_No, Erash. That's suicide, you can't."_ Erash shook his head, this was how it had to be, this was their best chance.

"It's all we've got, Garrus. It's the best chance at having someone survive. You have to live, Garrus. You have to make it out of here. Without you, hope dies on Omega. The people need Archangel to live. This is the best chance for that; you know it as well as I do. A long moment passed, and Garrus spoke quietly.

"_Damnit, I'm sorry, Erash. I never meant for…any of this."_

"You did right by every one of these guys, Garrus. Every one of them died fighting for something they believe in. That's more than most get. Now it's my turn. I'm going to blow that door," he stated, thinking about Ripper and the girls. He had seen the man's eyes, he knew he was joining the rest of Talon Squad today, and he wanted to protect those girls as best he could, somehow keep them safe before he died. He couldn't fault him, this battle was over for them. "And Garrus?" he added, leading into a question.

"_Yea?" _the other turian's voice responded, dripping with sorrow.

"Find him. Find him and make him pay." Malice coated Erash's words, and he steeled himself for the long run he was about to make.

"_I will, Erash...I **promise** you."_ He nodded. This was it, it was time. Letting a deep breath go, he closed his eyes for a moment, remembering Palaven, remembering home. Opening them with ferocity brimming in his pupils, he turned from cover and bolted for the door, running right through the Suns and the krogan, running right through Hell.

* * *

The three girls gasped as Ripper burst through the door, spinning quickly and locking it behind him. Rushing towards the wall, he groped at the different panels until he felt the slight recession within. Hooking his fingers in, he lifted up and then pulled out, and the wall panel slid to the side, revealing a small, roughly-hewn alcove. Ripper had spent a lot of time here when none of the other team-mates were around. They'd all thought he just liked being with the girls, and truth be told he did. Ever since he'd been the one to open that weapons cache and look down into their terrified faces, he'd wanted to keep them safe, protect them. But that wasn't the only reason he'd spent so much time in here.

Alex Crawford wasn't an idiot. He knew that twelve men against three entire mercenary groups wouldn't last long against a full-blown assault, and so he had taken this wall panel off himself, using a plasma torch to dig into the metal behind it, and carved out this small place for them to hide, in the event that what was happening right now ever did happen. Sliding the heavy wall panel aside with a grunt, he called to the girls.

"Daeva, you remember what we talked about?" She nodded quickly, and ran to the corner, opening a small box and pulling a balled-up blanket out of it. Rushing over to him, he took it from her, crouching down and lining the uneven metal floor with it before leading her inside. He beckoned Myra over next, holding her hand as she stepped in and sat on the blanket beside her sister. Lastly he looked to Serra, and she crossed to him slowly. He stood then, and placed his hand on her shoulder as he looked down into her eyes.

"You're the oldest, honey. You have to keep your sisters safe. Now how long are you going to stay in the hideout?" She met his gaze, small tears forming in her own. He had discussed this possibility with her many times, but she'd never liked talking about it. He was asking her to protect them in his absence, and though only thirteen, she knew exactly what 'his absence' meant. The three of them had grown fond of Alex, and he'd come to care for them as well, but at this point, with the way it was in the room just beyond the door… there was no other way.

"Until no one's been in the room for at least two days." Her voice was meek, but he nodded to her, sliding his glove off of his left hand and handing her the small armband that held his omni-tool's processor. She took it and followed his finger with her eyes as he pointed to a top corner of the room.

"The camera is in there, it will feed right to this omni-tool. Just watch and wait. Once they're gone, you three need to get off Omega. You're old enough to book passage on a shuttle, so take this." He handed her a credit chit with several thousand credits on it, all the money he had. She accepted it, and embraced him in a tight hug, which he returned. Hearing shouting and gunfire from the main living area, he turned sharply to the door, then back to her, crouching down and looking her in the eye. "You'll be ok, just remember everything I've taught you, and make for the address I gave you as soon as the coast is clear, alright? They'll help you back on Earth, it's safe there"

She nodded, and he looked upon her and the other girls for what he knew would be the last time, then ushered Serra into the space. Grabbing the wall panel, he slid it shut and heard the soft _click_ of its locking mechanism. The handle he'd built into its inner wall would allow them to leave when the time came, but for now, he'd locked them in, and stepping back saw that the panel looked just like the rest of the wall. Nodding grimly, he turned around, picking up his shotgun and making his way back to the main room. What he saw chilled his blood.

He passed through the doorway into the living area just in time to see Erash sprint from cover and run right into the Suns. Chasing after him, Ripper unloaded into any merc that came close enough to bother aiming at, trying desperately to catch up to his friend.

"Erash! Erash what are yo—?" the blast ended his last sentence before he could finish it, and though Alex "Ripper" Crawford died in confusion about a great many things, there was one thing he was certain of.

They were safe. His girls were safe.

* * *

Erash charged towards the door, his goal ever the focus of his vision. He felt the bullets fly into him, felt them first overload his kinetic barriers, then hammer into his armor until all the dents in it pressed painfully into his body, then pierce his flesh. He felt blood pouring from every inch of him, and just before he reached the door he could hear Ripper yelling behind him. For the first time since sprinting, he allowed himself to close his eyes in regret. _Ripper. Why couldn't you have just stayed with the girls? I didn't want you…to know it was coming._ His omni-tool chimed, letting him know he was in range for manual detonation, and he opened his eyes, staring ahead into the door as if he could pierce its metal body just by gazing into it hard enough, seeing the explosive charge beneath, witnessing his own doom.

Blood pouring from his body, he stumbled forward, slamming his free hand on his omni-tool's _Detonate_ key as he flew forward uncontrollably. In slow-motion, the door was consumed by a corona of orange and yellow, and it raced forward to catch him, to claim him, to bring him to the next world. _I've done it, _he thought in the split-second it took the flames to engulf his body, _Garrus is safe. He'll get out of this._ The fire claimed him, and he closed his eyes, letting it sear his body away from the soul within.

_And he will avenge us._

* * *

The explosion rocked the foundation of the building, and Garrus was thrown off of his cover spot on the balcony above. Fire tore through the level below, and he could hear the screams of humans and krogan alike as hellfire burned them to ash. When the sounds died down, Garrus looked over his cover to the room below. Furniture smoked, walls stood marred with carbon scoring and ash marks, bodies lay still aflame. But not one of them moved. The base was clear.

Moving quickly back into the living space on the top floor, he took up his sniper spot again, determinedly scoping down the bridge and waiting for his next victim. Fear gripped his heart, and he touched his comm link, venturing forth his last small hope.

"Th-this is Garrus…is…is anyone still up?"

Soft static and silence in his earpiece were his only replies.

* * *

"Sir, the explosion was…massive. It wiped out our entire entry group." Jentha allowed worry to creep into her voice, and Tarak sneered at it.

"Calm yourself, Jentha. They were expendable. Now that we know the bottom floor is a killzone, we'll back off and just wait them out. They had to have known the power of that explosive, its likely Archangel pulled his men to the upper floor before detonating it. Do we have any solid figures on kills?" She shook her head as she replied.

"Last solid number we had was six. He could still have as many as four others with him." Tarak nodded.

"Alright then. Pull all Suns back, send small groups of four or five across the bridge at regular intervals," he finished with a smile, "don't want him able to take any naps." She nodded. "And get another message to Jaroth, if we're waiting this out I want his mechs for scouts. I hate having to train new people. Also, get the word up to main level, I need freelancers to throw at this bastard." She nodded again, rushing from the command center with a _"Yes, sir."_

Tarak studied the layout of the building again, and smiled to himself. Their numbers were thinned, and they'd had to show him their hand just to survive. Archangel was definitely backed into a corner now. A corner he wouldn't escape from this time.

* * *

_"Attention all passengers, this ship will be docking with the Citadel in five minutes. Please have all your necessary items ready for inspection by Citadel customs. Thank you, and enjoy your stay."_

People of all different species moved to gather their things at the ship's automated request, but Sidonis remained still, looking out a nearby window into the black of space. Thousands of light-years away, in a seedy area of Omega, his friends, his second family, were being torn to pieces by Tarak and his Blue Suns. Tears tried to form in his eyes, but he'd cried too much the past few days, and they wouldn't come no matter how hard he willed them.

The ship docked, and Sidonis took his small bag and departed onto the pristine metal of the Citadel. Looking around, he saw family members and friends looking toward the ship behind him for any sign of the people they'd come here to meet, and he moved forward, not wanting to block their view. Letting his gaze trail over all of the people waiting, he started when he saw a krogan in red armor holding a sign that held a single name: Lantar. Stepping quickly over to the krogan, he met the other's gaze and spoke softly.

"I'm Lantar," the krogan nodded, beckoning him to follow without a word. They walked for a few minutes in silence, as he wound them a path down to the warehouse district. Stopping outside a nondescript warehouse that reminded him eerily of cargo bay 490, the krogan spoke.

"He's waiting for you inside," Sidonis tilted his head in confusion.

"Wh-who is?" The krogan crossed his arms. Clearly he wasn't used to be asked any questions.

"Fade."


	31. Here with Me

***Author's Note***  
This is it, the last main chapter of _The Darkest Night_. Almost hard to believe  
it's over. I wanted to write the whole thing in a month and it looks like I'm  
coming in just under that goal, so yay for me!

Like **Chapter 25 – Walking with Ghosts**, this is a chapter I've really wanted to  
write as well, as it really is an understanding piece for Tali. Everything she's felt  
since Chapter 2 is coming to a head, and just before she commands her first real  
mission, she understands finally how she feels, and is able to come to terms with  
it after two years of fighting (only to be knocked off her feet by it in the next few  
hours, right? Ahhh, poor Tali =P). It's a bit shorter than normal, and probably more  
flashback than "live" action, but I like it that way, it's a fitting wrap-up to the main  
story, I think.

Enjoy, I'll be posting the Afterword alongside the Epilogue later tonight, possibly  
tomorrow morning. Also, **please** read the Epilogue! I know some people don't, but  
please do, it will probably be referenced in _FWAM!_

And as **always**, thanks for all the reviews and adds, you're all wonderful!

* * *

**Chapter 31 – Here with Me**

"To be honest I thought his parents would be approaching **me** any day now to teach him how to handle a rifle," Amys said with a soft metallic laugh through her visor. "You may think he's learning well and that you've done yourself a favor having him around, Tali'Zorah, but you don't know the favor you've done **me** by taking him on." Another short laugh resonated from her, and a few of the heads of Prazza's marines turned to look in their direction. Tali had been smiling as Amys spoke, but at the perturbed looks from the marines, she felt her smile fade with a soft sigh.

Prazza's team had been very cordial and welcoming to her; their leader had as well. Still, she got the impression that he ran his squad very tight, as she hadn't once seen any of them crack a joke or … speak at all really… since they'd met two days ago. Amys looked to her with incredulity, subtly tapping her omni-tool to open a private comm channel between herself and Tali before speaking.

"_Keelah,_ I didn't think I was **that** boring…" Tali stifled a laugh before responding.

"You're not, Amys. I get the feeling this unit is a little more…solemn…than our own."

"Maybe, but aren't you in charge? You could just…you know…**make** them laugh…" Tali did laugh at that mental image, earning more strange looks from the rest of the team as Prazza stepped into the seating area from the helm of the small shuttle.

"Tali'Zorah, could I go over some mission aspects with you?" Nodding, she stood and walked towards the front cabin. As she entered, he activated the small terminal in front of the viewport, and a layout of the small human colony rotated slowly above it. "This is the layout we have, it's confirmed to be approximately two weeks old, so any attack on the colony could change what we know dramatically." She nodded, indicating the landing zone with a gloved finger as she replied.

"From the landing zone it seems there's only one main path through the colony until we get to here," gesturing toward a branch in the path, they both examined the routes. One branch ran towards more pre-fab units and the large storage and research areas of the colony, the other led towards a large courtyard and some administrative and housing units. "We may have to split up, but we'll deal with that when we get there."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, and for a brief moment she was reminded of Kal'Reegar. A small smile split her lips as she thought of the faith he had shown in suggesting she lead this team, and she turned fully to face Prazza.

"Prazza I need to speak with you about the squad," his shoulders tensed and he nodded before she continued. "I want you to know that while Admiral Gerrel has put me in charge of this mission, I appreciate any input or strategic advice you may have. You know this squad better than anyone, and I feel that being a true leader requires utilizing the knowledge of **everyone** in your unit."

"I…appreciate that, Tali'Zorah. To be honest I was worried at first, having my unit placed in command of another, but I think we may get along well if that's your mindset. If you'll excuse me, I need to go speak to my—um, **the** team before we land." She smiled and nodded as he stepped back into the seating area, leaving her alone with the holo of the colony and the viewport full of stars. Taking a seat, she sighed softly and looked at the colony map, losing herself in memory.

* * *

_He sits at the table, alone. It's a rare occurrence, and she quietly checks her chrono before rounding the corner. 05:23. Should he be awake yet? She couldn't remember. Her people needed less sleep to fully function than humans did, and as such she was always unsure when exactly they woke up. Still secluded behind the dividing wall, she observes him as he eats._

_Only, he's not __**really**__ eating. There is food on his plate, but he's simply pushing it around with his fork once every few seconds. His eyes stare down into it, but he doesn't seem to be really **looking** at it. Her mind is confused, but her body is concerned. The different feelings confuse her. Lately her body has been giving her strange cues around him. Concern when he is upset, a soft desire to stand closer to him when the opportunity arises, it was almost as if her mind and body were two different quarians. Feeling the need to follow her body's cue right now, she steps around the corner and quietly takes the seat across from him._

"_Shepard?" she whispers, but he doesn't hear her. His empty hand rests on the table, and her eyes flash to it, her pulse quickening at the opportunity presented. _No,_ she thinks, _that would be inapp—_before she can finish her thought, her body acts, reaching delicately forward and placing her hand on top of his. Even though the gesture is meant to comfort him, she gets a rush from the contact, and even as her mind curses her body's actions, it cannot deny the small pleasure they give. He looks up with a start, seeing her for the first time._

"_Oh…hey Tali, sorry I totally blanked out there," he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes, and she tilts her head, expressing her confusion. He picks up on it; he's gotten very good at reading her in the time she's been aboard, and continues. "Today is um…well it's the anniversary of a bad day in my past."_

"_Akuze?" she whispers softly. She knows that surviving that massacre was a painful memory for him, but he shakes his head._

"_No, though that was no walk in the park either…" he trails off, and she mentally adds another human phrase to her list of ones to search the meaning of. He meets her eyes, and she can see the pain radiating out of them. "It's the date of the batarian attack on Mindoir." A small gasp escapes her, and she unconsciously tightens her grip on his hand. How could she have forgotten?_

"_Oh, Shepard. _Keelah_, I'm sorry…" he nods slowly, but smiles at her before speaking._

"_You know, a lot of people say that to me on this day every year, but for some reason it makes me feel a bit better than usual to hear it from you." She smiles, and he squeezes her hand. She blushes under her helmet, and their eyes meet again for a brief moment. She can usually read him like a book through those deep green eyes, but right now she can't tell how he's feeling. She can guess, though.  
_

_Again her body is moving before her mind can think. She's standing up and walking around the table, never breaking eye contact with him. He's watching her move, the soft sad smile never clearing from his face, even lifting her hand in his own as she circles to avoid knocking over his glass. She smiles at the consideration, and sits down next to him on his side of the table. Her mind is ready to take over again, and she speaks softly._

"_You always ask me so many questions about my people, Shepard," she pauses, and he interrupts._

"_I…I know, and I'm sorry, if you feel irrit—" She places a gloved finger to his lips and he stops speaking. Her heart is racing, her mind is panicking. _What are you doing?_ it screams to her body, but the finger is there, and she leaves it. She can feel his soft breathing on her glove, but continues unaffected._

"_Would…would you like to talk to me about growing up on a colony world? You know…if it would…help? I…I don't know, I just feel like maybe if you t-talk about it, you co—" it's her turn to be interrupted. He places a finger on her vocal emitter, and while it does nothing to physically stop her from speaking, the gesture stops her in her tracks._

"_Hmm…not as effective, I think," he says, his words muffled as he talks around her finger. She laughs, pulling her hand away before he does the same and continues. "Yes, Tali. I think I would like that a lot."_

* * *

Reality settled back into place, and she smiled behind her visor. Her daydreams distracted her occasionally, but at times like these, just watching the small colony world approach in the viewport, they were a pleasant distraction. She had been practicing what Kal had suggested, keeping a small amount of her mind actively remembering him, and to the tactic's credit, she did have fewer moments of sorrow, and fewer daydreams that completely distracted her. She'd become able to function while still enjoying the memories she had of him; an ability that once acquired, she had wondered how she'd ever lived without. Bringing that small amount of her mind into focus here and now, she lost herself in his many smiles, the laughter they'd shared, all the brief moments of physical contact…her smile deepened as she looked out the viewport. The memories certainly helped, but she still missed him terribly.

Looking at the console dashboard, she saw the ETA to their landing zone: fifteen minutes. Standing, she walked back into the seating area, addressing the team, Amys, and Prazza.

"Alright everyone, we'll be on the ground in 15 minutes. Prazza and I will work on the plan as we go, but all data we have indicates a communications blackout and **not** an attack on the colony. Expect friendlies and please do **not** fire on anything unless you have the word from me, understood? A round of "_Yes ma'am!"_ responded to her question, and she nodded.

"Alright then, get your gear and let's find Veetor."

The shuttle landed on Freedom's Progress fifteen minutes later with a soft _crunch_ of the snow beneath. Stepping outside, Tali raised a hand to catch a few of the flakes as they dropped. Amys followed suit, laughing a bit as she did, and Tali turned back to the group.

"Alright, team, let's move out."

They moved forward quietly, and Tali brought up the rear. Snow fell softly and quietly over the darkened human colony, and as they began to move out, despite the sinking feeling the empty colony emitted, Tali found herself smiling in memory once again.

* * *

"_Well, that makes it official," Garrus sighs as he slams down the front access panel of the Mako. "The spirit of this…__**thing**__, has it out for me." Shepard laughs, walking over to the turian and clapping him on the shoulder._

"_Well, it would be too easy otherwise, right?" Mist rolls out of both of their mouths as they speak, and she can't help but smile behind her mask as she watches it happen. Turning around, she looks out at the snow-covered expanse of Noveria. She wonders how cold it would feel outside of her enviro-suit. She wonders how…**anything** would feel outside of her enviro-suit, really. Just before she drifts off into daydreaming, she feels a soft _thud_ against the small of her back. Jumping in surprise, she turns to see small chunks of snow clinging to her suit, the rest having fallen in a heap below her. Raising her eyes, she sees Shepard standing by the Mako, his hands working together in front of him. Swinging her eyes back the way they came, she sees Garrus trudging back towards the garage at Port Hanshan. They had only traveled about half a mile from the Port, so while the cold wasn't too bad yet, it would be a small walk for him before he'd be back.  
_

"_D-Did you see what just hit me, Shepard?" His hands stop working immediately, and he looks up with innocence in his eyes._

"_Hmm? Oh no, I was just talking with Garrus, he's just going to walk back and get the part he needs. You said something…hit you?" She nods, pointing to the small of her back._

"_Yes, it was right here, I'm certain I felt it." He shrugs in response, and she turns back to the landscape. Maybe she __**had**__ been imagining it. After all, the wind was constantly blowing out here, maybe it had ju—" Her head whips around as she feels another strike, this time further up on her back. Sweeping a hand behind her, she feels more snow fall. "Shepard! It happened again, __**tell**__ me you saw something!"_

"_Nope," he calls back to her, "nothing at all. You sure you're not imagining this, Tali?" She stares back at the landscape thoughtfully. Maybe, but she was sure…she turns around to ask him what, if anything, he knows about unusual weather patterns on Noveria, and gasps loudly as a clump of snow collides with her visor. Wiping frantically to clear it off, she hears Shepard burst into laughter over by the Mako, and realization settles over her._

"_**YOU!**__" His laughter turns to terror as she charges across the snowy ground towards him, hands raised. She's almost there when her foot catches a patch of ice, and she flies forward, unable to control her motion. He's moving in an instant, and catches her in his arms, pulling her upwards. She wraps her arms around him for support, and in an instant all her indignation fades as he stares down into her visor, pure concern on his face._

"_Are you alright, Tali?" She can't find the words, so she simply nods. His arms are still around her, hers still around him, and before she can think about it she hugs him tightly, a gesture he willingly returns. Through her enviro-suit, she can vaguely feel his hands on her back as they begin to move up and down. Closing her eyes, she savors the feeling, her muscles twitching slightly at the rare affection. He clears his throat, he wants to say something, and she opens her eyes, looking up into his. "I ah…I just wanted to tell you, Tali, that I'm…I'm really glad you're here." She laughs softly._

"_Stranded in a frozen wasteland without a functioning transport?" He smiles nervously as he continues._

"_Ah, no. I meant here on the Normandy, here with me…us! Here with us. I enjoy the talks we have and I really…appreciate your presence here." Her smile must have somehow expressed through her visor, for he smiled back at her, and she stepped back from him._

"_Well I'm glad to be here…with you." He smiled, and seemed to want to say more, but just nodded. "Now," she began, "show me how to make one of those projectiles so I can hit Garrus with it when he comes back." He laughed, and motioned for her to kneel down with him. _

_Her first snowball had been perfect. Garrus' reaction even more so._

* * *

Smiling, Tali took the memory and placed it in the small corner of her mind as Kal had suggested. She could feel Shepard constantly in the back of her head; his warmth, his light, his caring presence, all the kind things he had said, all waiting to be called upon whenever she needed. Pulling up her map of the complex, she analyzed the main route they would take while sending a single thought to his pocket in her mind.

_I'm glad you're here with me, Shepard._


	32. Epilogue: Lazarus Rising

***Author's Note***  
And now, dear readers, we come to the final chapter in _The Darkest Night_.  
It's been fun, and will be even more fun when _For We Are Many _picks up!  
Enjoy this trippy dream sequence, and tell me what you think. I tried to make  
it intentionally hectic, as it's essentially Shepard going through a gauntlet of  
ever-changing dream sequences as his mind rushes back forward to  
consciousness.

I personally like to imagine I'm novelizing a movie whenever I write. So I see  
the scene play out in my head, and try to capture that essence in words. To that  
end, I totally saw this 'scene' end with a quick snap to a black screen and blasting  
rock music as the credits start to roll. Tell me if you felt the same. Hope I nailed it.

* * *

_**The Darkest Night  
**_**Epilogue: Lazarus Rising**

* * *

Though his eyes were closed, John could feel the wind blow through his hair. He could smell the soft scent of the flowers his mother grew on their back porch, he could feel the blades of grass beneath his body. He could hear Amy's soft voice beside him.

"That one looks like a zebra…you know if it were…upside down. Oh, and if zebras had five legs…Ugh, I'm bad at this." He laughed without opening his eyes, and reached over, feeling her soft, gloved, three-fingered hand interlace with his own. Her voice spoke again, only it wasn't her voice, the dreaming Shepard knew, it was Tali's. "That one looks like the Normandy's core readout chart, all the peaks and valleys at the top of it…or maybe it's a rhinoceros. _Keelah_, this is a **game **for humans? The kind you play for **fun**?" He laughed harder at that, and opened his eyes to look at her. Her purple visor blocked most of her face, but her soft white glowing eyes…he could stare into them for days. Squeezing her hand, he stood up, and moved to pull her to her feet.

For some reason she seemed ten times heavier than normal. The world slowed down, and as he tried to pull her up, she instantly disappeared from beneath him. His anchor point lost, he flew backwards, colliding with the ground and closing his eyes with the pain. Darkness engulfed him, and for a moment all he could hear was the soft pounding of blood rushing through his head. All of a sudden, gunshots and screaming rang out around him, and his eyes shot open, taking in the chaos of the batarian attack on Mindoir. Scrambling to his feet, he panicked at the first thought in his head.

_Tali's out in this!_

"Tali!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, spinning in every direction to look for her. "Tali, where are you?" Hearing a shrill scream, he spun backwards, seeing a batarian stabbing the woman he cared for with a shocking prod. Her body went limp, and her eyes locked with his as she fell forward. Roaring in rage, Shepard sprinted towards the batarian as he lifted a chip-implanting device to the back of her helmet. A small part of his mind poked at his consciousness, tried to tell him that wouldn't work in real life…this can't be real, but his rage blocked it out. The look she'd given him hurt just as much as if he'd seen it in the waking world.

Charging into the batarian, the pair of them tumbled backwards, rolling over each other and coming to a rest in the grass, John on top. Viciously, without mercy, he began to punch the batarian with both fists, alternating blows. Left, right, left, right; blood spurted up onto his face, and he started to hear sickening _crunch_es as he swung. Closing his eyes in anger, in frustration, in pain, he grabbed the batarian by the coat on his chest and shook him against the ground. His eyes squeezed shut, and blackness engulfed his being once more. Gripping the alien's coat, his only grounding in the sea of black, he continued to thrash his body with an unbridled fury.

"Shepard, what the hell are you doing? I'm alive, god damn it!" Shepard opened his eyes, looking down into the face of Commander Michael Torrek. Scrambling away from him, Shepard looked down at his own uniform. He was only a corporal, Alliance marines. But that meant…this was…

_No! _His mind thought desperately. _Not again! Anywhere but here!_

In grim answer to his thoughts, the ground before them trembled and erupted, a giant thresher maw bursting forth and killing three men instantly. Shepard fired into the monster, heart pounding, mind racing, and it spit acid, eliciting more screams from his team-mates as they burned alive. Seconds turned to minutes, turned to hours, in the blink of an eye, the world _shifted_, and he lay in a trench next to Torrek. They were the only two left. His Commander, fear gripping his gaze, turned to the young corporal.

"Y-You have to get out of here, Shepard." He clutched in vain at his leg; the acid had eaten through everything from the knee down. "I…I can buy you the time, you need to make good use of it, soldier. Get to the shuttle, and notify the Alliance what's happened here." Shepard nodded, tears coming from his eyes. Young Shepard had been numb to the pain of the situation, facing down his own death for the first real time in his life. Dreaming Shepard had had years to analyze every second of this harrowing experience, and the emotional trauma was painful even now.

"And Shepard?" he looked back to his Commander. "Make sure **she** gets out alive." _What?_ This hadn't happened…

"Wh-Who, Commander?" The older man just laughed, coughing up a bit of blood at the end of it.

"Who? The girl, Shepard, the one right behind you." He turned. She was there. Her eyes were wide behind her visor, and when she spoke he shivered.

"_I…I'm scared, Shepard."_ He grasped her hand in his own, his resolve found. He would do anything to protect her, and some fucking thresher maw was **not** going to stop him. Taking a last look at Torrek, he gave the man a nod and led Tali over the top as they sprinted for the shuttle some two hundred yards away, across flat, open plain. Torrek held its attention for a moment, but when it saw a moving target, the maw was upon them. Shepard swore under his breath, but did not falter. The beast's head came toward them, and at the last moment he shoved Tali forward. She fell to the ground with a cry of surprise, and the thresher maw's mandibles closed around him.

_Fuck this, _he thought, pulling his assault rifle out and hammering down on the trigger, letting the recoil allow the weapon to fire in any direction. Bullets sprayed into the beast's oral flesh, and blood began to pool around him. Within seconds, the mandibles separated again, and Shepard jumped from its mouth, his armor slick with blood. Rushing to Tali, he pulled her to her feet and they continued to run while the beast was distracted. Reaching the shuttle, they clambered in, her taking the helm while he aimed the rifle back at the beast and unloaded. The shuttle lifted off, and the maw extended fully, trying to catch the fleeing craft. Tali slammed on the thrusters, and the afterburners fired into the maw's throat, harshly searing it and causing the creature to recoil in pain. The shuttle hit the atmosphere, free and away. Closing the side door of the shuttle, Shepard moved to the cockpit, sighing heavily as he took the empty seat. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he spoke quietly.

"Can't believe you got us out of that one. Nice flying, Tali."

"Who the hell is 'Tali'?" he heard a very familiar voice reply. Opening his eyes in an instant, he looked over to the pilot's seat to see himself, weary and ragged, just as he had been the day he'd **actually** survived Akuze. His eyes widened, but the younger version of himself only stared forward, into the black of space. He knew what he was thinking…_Why me? Why am I alive? Why did I survive?_ He would think these thoughts for years to come, and Shepard's eyes began to water as he looked upon the version of himself just starting down the dark path that would consume the next two years of his life. Before N7, before he turned it around, before he came back to humanity. Reaching out slowly, hesitantly, he moved to touch the shoulder of the young man piloting the craft. He got mere inches away before the young Shepard suddenly turned, looking himself right in the eye and screaming.

"**WHY ME?**" Shepard recoiled at the screaming man, smacking the back of his head against the bulkhead. His vision dizzying, he leaned forward, unconsciously placing a hand on the back of his head. It came away sticky with blood, and he blacked out, falling hard onto the metal deck. Once again greeted by the black of unconsciousness and the thumping of blood in his head, Shepard listened, trying to hear anything. A muffled voice repeated itself in the darkness, barely audible over the thumping in his head.

"_Shepard…have to…up now!"_ He shook his head, and the voice repeated itself, growing more intent. "_**Shepard**__, you have to wake up __**now!**__" _The voice seemed to grab him by the throat. His unconscious body tensed up, pain seeming to wash over him in waves. His head began to throb, his left cheek burned as if fire ran through it, and without warning his eyes snapped open of their own accord. Blistering white light greeted his pupils, and he tore his gaze to the left, away from the burning light.

His senses went haywire. His vision, though cloudy, could make out the sterile white wall and medical terminals of an operating room. It seemed oddly familiar, as if he had…wait, was he still dreaming_?_ Dull sounds crept back into his skull; explosions, screaming, alarm sirens…he had never been in a place like this before…why would he be dreaming about it in his unconscious sta—his mind stopped as slow realization washed over him. Could it be…? He moved his gaze slowly to the right, remembering the woman in the white lab uniform holding him back against the table. He saw the lab terminal, remembered the back of the bald technician who never looked at him.

His eyes caught the edge of the window, and he snapped them shut immediately. He remembered what he had seen the last time he looked there, and swallowed hard before opening them and looking at himself. His eyes grew wide. He was…he was back. Sitting up slowly, never taking his eyes off of his own reflection, he mused aloud.

"I'm…real. I'm awake. I'm…_alive_." The voice over the comm system in the operating room answered him.

"Yes, Shepard, but you **won't **be in about thirty seconds if you don't **get off that table**!" His back straightened immediately, remembering in a single moment every single dream he'd had, every single moment of the time before the attack on the Normandy. And out of all those moments, one stuck clearly in his head.

_A single, three-fingered hand, held between his two_.

He grinned wickedly. He was back, had been given a second chance. And this time…he would do things **right**. Lunging forward, he felt his feet hit the ground with a solid _thump_. Craning his neck first to the left, then to the right, each time waiting to feel a distinct _crack_, he replied with one very confident, very harshly-spoken word.

"Gladly."


	33. Afterword

***Author's Note***  
This is an Afterword, it consists of the author reviewing the process behind the work you just read,  
as well as stating any future plans related to the work. This one also includes a reader-submitted  
FAQ. If you don't want to read my thoughts here, I won't be offended, promise. Just make sure to  
check back in a couple days for the launch of my ME2 redux _For We Are Many_, which will utilize and  
reference many of the scenes and lines from _The Darkest Night_!

If you're sticking around to hear me ramble, enjoy! =D

* * *

_**The Darkest Night**_**  
Afterword**

* * *

I find that any time I'm asked to comment on my own work or leave some kind of "self-assessment," I always find it much harder to do at the end of the work than when I'm still in the thick of it, hammering out progress and really **feeling** the process work. To that end, I'm writing the Afterword now, right before I "pen" the Epilogue. The story isn't technically done yet, and I'm still working with the many strings in my head and how I'll tie them together in _For We Are Many_, but overall I've been extremely satisfied with how it's gone, and excessively flattered by all the reviews I've been receiving.

Writing Mass Effect fan fiction originally started for me as a sort of test. I had planned to take part in the National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo) competition held annually in November, which consists of writing a 50,000 word novel of one's own creation. I wanted to see if I could do that, so I dedicated October to trying it. As many of you have realized and commented and PM'd about to me, I update like a fiend when I'm writing something I love. In a week and two days I had passed the 50k word count, but I wasn't satisfied. To be perfectly honest I had stopped thinking about Nanowrimo altogether. Though I may pick up original fiction in the future (I'm on FictionPress as well, same username).

I was getting a huge rush not from writing my own material and putting it out there (although that in itself **is** a pretty big rush), but from the reviews, and the PMs, and everyone saying how much they enjoyed my work. To be honest one of my favorite comments came from a user who asked me why Garrus and his crew didn't take Incendiary Ammo when disrupting the Blood Pack shipment. I laughed out loud because at the time of writing I had **completely** forgotten that ammo types existed, and yes, that would have helped. Let's just chalk it up to tactical oversight, shall we? =P

The reviews were and are what kept me going, long into the night when I just didn't want to write anymore. And especially when I felt like I was floundering at a character like Liara or TIM. Wanting to get that next chapter out for the readers, almost **needing **to get it done before I fell asleep on my keyboard (happened twice); I was completely motivated like I never have been with anything before. You all are my measuring stick, and the fact that many of you kept coming back, kept posting reviews, kept reading and commenting, really drove me to all the fast updates everyone loves to praise me for.

To everyone who has commented, PM'd, or just **read** my work, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I've been writing fiction since I was twelve, but without an audience, it just loses a certain appeal. Finding this site was a great thing for me, and I really hope you'll all continue to read what I put out there. I won't be participating in Nanowrimo this year, as I've found a more personal goal: completing this series. So even if you've never posted a review or sent me a message, if you've read this story and connected with these characters, then thank you. I'll be around this site for quite a bit of time to come. =)

* * *

**Author Q&A:**

**How long will you break between works?  
**I don't plan to break for very long. To be perfectly honest, I tried telling myself I was **going** to take a three day break between _TDN _and _FWAM_, but just the thought made me uneasy. By the time you're reading this Afterword, I'll probably have already written the Prologue to _FWAM_, but I will take some kind of one- or two-day break before firing up another story. That's it, though. Promise. It's as hard for me to make myself take a break as it is for you to wait for an update!

**What gave you the idea to make Joker and Lia a couple in **_**TDN**_**?  
**Mainly, I wanted to use Lia as something other than a random encounter, give her and quarians in general more of a presence in the work. Also, I like to see Joker have someone he can count on to be just as sarcastic and yet intelligent as he is, and the fact that both of them are physically limited by their bodies was just kind of icing on the cake. I was really happy with the positive review that relationship got, and enjoyed being able to write a human-quarian romance while waiting for Shepard to wake up. Obviously their story won't be the main romance in _FWAM_, but I won't be abandoning it, either. =)

**What happened to the kids in the wall at Garrus' base?  
**Their story is one instance of OC addition that I'll be doing in _FWAM_. Without giving away too much, yes they survived the blast, and the camera did as well. Ripper knew about Erash's work on the door, and so would have installed the camera deep enough in the wall to resist it. If you're interested in Serra and the others, they'll be written about in _FWAM._

**In what order do you plan to write all the projects listed on your profile page?  
**_The Darkest Night  
For We Are Many  
Biding Time  
Quantum Entanglement  
[Untitled ME1 Redux]  
[Untitled ME3 Redux]  
[Untitled post-ME3 piece]_

The reasoning for this is that I don't want to start writing my ME3 piece while people are still playing the game after it having just come out. Don't want to ruin anything for anyone, so I'll take the time I'm not ravenously playing ME3 to start at the beginning and move forward. I may stop in the middle of the ME1 redux to start writing ME3, it really depends on you all to be honest. When I start getting a bunch of PMs or reviews to the tune of "Yea, this is great and all, but why aren't you writing ME3?" I'll probably start writing ME3. =P

**What do you play in the **_**Mass Effect **_**games?  
**I have four main saves so I can experience all the main aspects of the story. Ordered in time played, they would be:

John Shepard – Infiltrator – Paragon – Colonist – Sole Survivor – Rom: Tali  
(^ Inspiration for this series' Shepard, however in this series he is a Soldier, not an Infiltrator)  
Sarah Shepard – Soldier – Paragon – Spacer – War Hero – Rom: Garrus  
Alex Shepard – Sentinel – Renegade – Earthborn – Ruthless – Rom: Miranda  
Eva Shepard – Adept – Renegade – Colonist – War Hero – Rom: Thane

**How "canon" will your reduxes be?  
**Mostly. I change things when I think either (a)I can write it more 'cinematically' while still staying true to the essence of the scene that Bioware made in-game, or (b)I have an OC or an original plot line that needs to fit in, so I bend a few rules. Usually it's (a), rarely it's (b). As a prime example that you'll see shortly, I've re-written the entire Freedom's Progress reunion scene between Tali and Shepard **quite** extensively, see reasoning (a).

* * *

Thanks again to everyone who submitted a question or simply read my work. I hope to see you all in a day or so, on the _For We Are Many_ reviews page! =D

Happy reading!

**_~venomRED_  
**


	34. Glossary

***Author's Note***

This is an appended Glossary, containing only the words used in _The Darkest Night_.  
For a full Glossary of all terms created by Calinstel, check out his page and peruse  
his masterfully-crafted work!

* * *

_**The Darkest Night  
**_**Glossary of Khelish Terms**

* * *

**Bosh'tet:** Animal, native to Rannoch. With no insect life, other species of life had to fill the niches that on earth fell to the insects. One such niche was the dung beetle. A bosh'tet falls into the category of roller on earth as it moves the dung found to a central location. Though differing in colors, from the green/yellow of the cooler climates to the blue/white in the more tropical areas, they are the same species. Known for their apparent inability to distinguish between dung and small rocks, it is considered extremely stupid. Many have been found dead, surrounded by small rocks, as it tried to feed on them.

**Det kazuat: **Term of curse, considered especially crude. Literal Translation: Living sack of excrement. The Otquer, a large predatory lizard, will pass its meal neatly wrapped in a membranous tissue. Inside the sack, the enzymes used to break down the meat of the prey while still in the lizard continue to act as a stimulant keeping the indigestible brain synapses of its last meal still working until the sun dries the sack out.

**Felz'elt:** Term used to describe the state of mind of a person who has just lost their lifemate. Literal translation: Sundered souls. A condition very close to the human emotion of grief when a loved one dies but at a depth that very few humans could experience. This state of being will be always present after their lifemate has joined the Ancestors but can vary in effect. The longer the lifemates were together, the lesser overall effect it has, as there are more memories to lessen the pain.

**Hecs'tiyl:** Term of courtship. Literal translation: Pathway to the heart. Second of three: Signifying the period where the needs of both begin to overrule the needs of self. Almost always leads to bonding though this phase is usually the longest of the three.

**Kaeli'steiz: **Name used in the ancient text of the Ancestors. Literal meaning: Warmth's Herald. The home star of the quarian race.

**Nehya:** Term of endearment, similar to sweetheart. Literal translation: Interesting one. Used primarily at the beginning of a relationship to signify a desire to know the person on a more personal level, to get to know them better.

**Nis'telz:** Dice, specifically 3, 6-sided, 6 colored dice. Literal translation: Chances of Life. Used in many games, the dice are all numbered 1-6 but the colors of each face are different on each die. In order of lowest to highest, the colors are red, brown, green, yellow, purple and blue. The origin of the colors used is believed to have been drawn from the caste system of early quarian history. The colors moved from rank to trade as their civilization grew to adulthood.

**Raalz'Jel rium:** Term used to describe the 137 year cycle of torrential rains. Literal translation: Tears of the Vanquished ones. Ancient quarians believed the rains were attacks from all their fallen enemies trying to wash away the victors. Later, it was known that due to the orbital path of Rannoch, that ever 137 years, the planet was just a bit closer to the sun. When that happened, the shallow seas absorbed more heat and released it into the skies as water vapor all summer long. As winter came, the supersaturated higher air released its burden in torrential rains across the planet. The rivers, swelled with the massive inflow of water, rising well above their banks. Waters as high as 6 meters had been recorded but this was dependent on the valley. Omxa, with its 5 meter high bases, indicated waters never exceeded the 4 meter mark. In a valley 3 kilometers wide, that was still a lot of water.

**Realk:** Cloth covering used by the quarians. It is used to describe not just the hood seen on most but any material adornment.


End file.
